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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25432567">To Play at Playing God</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/vials/pseuds/vials'>vials</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Heretics &amp; Saints [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Captivity, Cults, Dark Alina Starkov, F/M, POV Alternating, Psychological Torture, Religious Fanaticism, Torture, all the fun stuff that comes from being seen as a living saint, also the Darkling is like super deranged in this</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:35:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>73,722</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25432567</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/vials/pseuds/vials</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years have passed since Alina and the Darkling conspired to overthrow the crown. Over the years support has remained mixed, made all the more complicated by Nikolai's escape and the revelation that he had been an unwilling puppet king. With wars on both sides of the border and threats from Lantsov loyalists an almost daily occurrence, Alina and the Darkling could almost be forgiven for overlooking the dangers presented by Ravka's various cults.</p><p>That is, until one particular cult decides it's had enough of seeing its Saint align herself with with someone like the Darkling. Refusing to accept the alliance, their only answer is to separate Alina from him and force her to see sense via any means possible. </p><p>Well-hidden, deranged, and more fanatical then either of them could expect, the cult has Alina at its mercy. Once more she finds herself playing the role of spy while trying to endure increasing dehumanisation and violence. Meanwhile, the Darkling will do everything within his power to ensure she returns to rule by his side -- and when dealing with such extensive power, it seems inevitable that both of them are led into a horrific situation beyond all comprehension.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Heretics &amp; Saints [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1816138</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>175</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is the second thing I have written for this project, which is massive and extensive AU featuring Alina finally getting to be the evil ruler I know she always wanted to be. Despite being the second thing I've written for this project, it's by no means a project that I'm writing in chronological order. Each piece is designed to be read either as a standalone piece set within a wider universe (with enough context clues in the narrative that reading everything isn't really necessary) or it can also be binge-read when the series is complete and I arrange it in order. Regardless, it's not a complicated scenario overall, so this is most just to say to later readers not to worry, you haven't managed to miss anything. I'm just not the best of pals with chronology.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Alina</strong>
</p><p>When Alina woke she expected to feel panic, as though the brief flash of it that had overcome her before the world fell away had been put on pause. She was sure it would return to her as soon as consciousness did, but consciousness didn’t return to her as suddenly as she would have expected and it seemed that her panic had missed its opportunity.</p><p>Instead she felt vague confusion, but most of all she was just tired and uncomfortable. It combined to make her feel irritable, and for a long time she was sure that regardless of whatever situation she had found herself in, she would snap at the first person who dared talk to her. She knew that people were close by, because she could sometimes hear footsteps and the swish of clothing, and sometimes voices would reach her – indistinct, coming from behind what seemed to be a very thick wall, but definitely the rumble of conversation, of questions and answers, and on occasion of orders being given. There was no mistaking the clipped words, the hurry of feet that accompanied them; Alina listened as best as she could, but there was no translating the words beyond their vaguest shapes and her head hurt too much to try for long.</p><p>The headache had arrived gradually as well, sneaking up on her until she was suddenly aware that she felt as though something very tight had wrapped itself around her head and begun squeezing. For that reason she didn’t open her eyes for a while, and for all she knew she might have been slipping back into unconsciousness or sleep. She had no idea how much time passed in that state; only that at some point she awoke properly, her thoughts sharper than they had been before, and the headache reduced to a lingering and dulled pain in her forehead. With the pain from her head mostly gone, the rest of her body was able to report its complaints, and it turned out there were many – her hips and shoulders ached and her back was beginning to follow their example, but that was unsurprising once Alina realised how uncomfortable whatever she was laying on was. If it hadn’t been for the fact it had some warmth and some give she would have thought it was a stone floor, but while it wasn’t technically it certainly wasn’t far from it.</p><p>Her hands felt the worst of all. Alina got the sudden thought that it felt as though they were made out of wood, and when she finally got the presence of mind to bring them close to her face, she saw that was because her wrists had been tied tightly together, the rope twisting through her fingers in order to render moving them impossible. Her fingers were pale white, slightly purple at the tips, and Alina couldn’t feel her hands themselves – just the heavy, wooden imposters they had become. Hesitantly she tapped them against the wall next to her, only to immediately regret it as pins and needles shivered up the length of both arms, lingering for several minutes and repeating the unpleasant sensation every time she moved even slightly.</p><p>It was the sight of her hands tied that more than anything reignited the panic building in her. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but she realised only then that she had half-expected to find herself in the company of somebody who was technically an enemy but who wouldn’t wish <em>her</em> harm; she supposed she had wondered if it had been Nikolai’s doing, because while her capture hadn’t exactly been gentle she wouldn’t have put it past him to do what was necessary in order to spirit her away quickly and in one piece. He would never leave her alone without a watch, though, and she was sure he wouldn’t tie her hands like <em>this</em>. The restraints were so tight and so cruelly done that Alina was forced to assume it had been deliberately sadistic.</p><p>She tried to call her power anyway, of course, desperately attempting to move her fingers even the slightest bit. It was no use; the rope had no give at all, and Alina was also becoming aware of a more worrying aspect to the whole issue – she couldn’t feel anything <em>to</em> call. When she tried to call the light she simply couldn’t find it – she knew it was there somewhere, because something stirred when she focused on her power, but it was as though it had nowhere to go – or rather, nothing to answer it. Like called to like, but what good was that when only half of the equation was present?</p><p>Trying to control the panic, she sat up in the hope that she would be able to catch sight of some kind of clue as to where she was and who had her. The room she was in was small enough to be lit by one lantern mounted on the wall, the flame almost insultingly merry as the light flickered and bounced around the room. There were no windows, and the walls were uneven and made of a dark grey stone. There was a doorway roughly carved into the stone, and someone had fitted a thick wooden door into it; even so it didn’t quite fit, and Alina could see the cracks between the door and its frame. There was a faint glow there, implying that somewhere outside another lantern was lit, but that told her nothing useful.</p><p>The air was chill and smelled slightly of frost, and Alina was beginning to grow concerned that she was underground. That would explain why she couldn’t call the light to her – there <em>was</em> no sunlight down here, only the light from the oil lamps casting everything in long, strange shadows.</p><p><em>A shame you’re not Aleksander,</em> she thought to herself, and then she stilled.</p><p>Aleksander. What would <em>he</em> be doing? How long had she been gone? She looked around the room again, her eyes quickly darting into the corners as though she might be able to spot him – perhaps he might have come to her, somehow sensing she was awake? Had he been trying to reach her? What would he have done when he got no response? Thinking about him not knowing anything was somehow worse than not knowing anything herself; she was sure he would be losing his mind and suddenly she was terrified he would get himself into trouble, that this might specifically be to draw him out and get him when panic might have clouded his judgement.</p><p><em>No</em>, she told herself. <em>No. He’s been doing this for centuries. He wouldn’t make that kind of mistake. He’d work out what they were trying to do.</em></p><p>The words didn’t provide much comfort. Aleksander might have centuries of experience, but Alina knew he’d never had this much to lose before.</p><p>Suddenly desperate to do something, she raised her wrists to her mouth and tried to bite at the rope, testing to see if it was worth trying to chew her way through them. No sooner had her teeth bitten down did she recoil in disgust – the rope was coated with something foul-tasting and apparently mildly poisonous; Alina could feel her lips and tongue prickling where it had come into contact with the substance, and she turned her face and wiped her mouth against her shoulder, grimacing. Quickly her lips began to itch, and it reminded her of the nettles she had been forever getting stung by when she had been a little girl.</p><p>The itching was maddening, but she still stared at the ropes again, her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to work out if it would be worth it. No doubt her lips would be a mess by the time she managed to chew through the ropes, and she didn’t want to think about what swallowing any of it would do to her throat – but if she managed to get away it wouldn’t matter. She could get it seen to once she returned to the city, and anyway, it would take more than that to do her serious harm. Powerful Grisha didn’t die easily, and the last she checked, she was the only Grisha alive who had two amplifiers.</p><p>She was about to start trying again when she became aware of footsteps in the passage, and the sound was so muffled that almost as soon as she had heard them did she see the door begin to open. She quickly moved her hands into her lap, pressing herself back against the wall as though trying to put as much distance between herself and whoever might walk through that door as possible. It hit her, then, how unprepared she was – she had no idea who this person might be, no idea about what they might want. She had still been holding out hope that it would be someone she recognised, but that hope was quickly dashed when she saw it was a complete stranger who had stepped into the room.</p><p>In the flickering light from the lantern, Alina couldn’t work out how old the woman was. She might have been in her late thirties or her late forties; depending on how the light moved, her age seemed to shift. She had blonde hair, twisted into an intricate knot and piled at the top of her head, secured by several different pins that glinted in the light; none of them matched, the colours creating a strange array of blinking colours that never seemed to appear in the same place. Alina couldn’t make out her eyes in the shadows, but she wore what might have passed for a friendly smile had Alina not seen plenty of smiles like it in her time.</p><p>In contrast to the glittering colours in her intricate hairstyle, the woman was dressed plainly. She appeared to be wearing something that looked not unlike a monk’s robe, and though she had pinned it to make it appear more gown-like than robe-like it was still basic and hung neutrally from her figure. Her hands, clasped in front of her like a monk in prayer, almost vanished in the large sleeves. As she stepped closer, Alina saw she was wearing plain flat shoes.</p><p>“Sankta Alina,” the woman said, still with that infuriatingly serene smile. “You’ve been chewing at your ropes.”</p><p>Alina instinctively ran her teeth over her bottom lip, trying to soothe some of the itching here.</p><p>“Disappointing,” the woman said, shaking her head. “I had faith you would behave.”</p><p>“Obviously not much,” Alina said. Her voice cracked slightly, and once again she wondered how long she had been gone; how long she had been unconscious. “If you’d had that much faith, you wouldn’t have put that stuff all over the ropes.”</p><p>The woman sighed. “You were never this rude,” she said, a hint of disdain creeping into her voice. “All the Heretic’s influence, I’m sure.” She seemed to suddenly brighten, all traces of the annoyance vanishing and being immediately replaced with that sure serenity. The speed of it was jarring. “No matter. That is, after all, why you’re here.”</p><p>“What?” Alina asked. “Why <em>am</em> I here?”</p><p>“You don’t have to worry anymore, Sankta,” the woman said breathlessly. Alina wasn’t sure if it was the lighting or if the woman’s eyes were suddenly shimmering. “All of that is behind you. Don’t you see? It was a terrible thing for you to be there. We should never have allowed it. Of course we were working hard, but these things can never be done quickly. The security around the Palace was too great, and you so rarely ventured outside it… I suppose the Heretic would want to keep you close. <em>He</em> knew we wouldn’t stand for this.”</p><p>Alina was beginning to get the impression she was in the company of a madwoman. It was an unnerving thought, but somehow she found it easier to come to terms with than the idea that she might have fallen into the hands of somebody who wanted her dead, or tortured for information, or whatever other nightmarish situation she had been imagining.</p><p>“You’re…” she began, before pausing. She had been about to say the woman was part of one of her cults, but she didn’t think that was overly polite. “You’re a… follower?” she eventually tried.</p><p>It seemed to be the right choice. The woman nodded enthusiastically, seeming exited that Alina had guessed.</p><p>“Of course we’re not part of the mainstream,” the woman added hastily, disapproval twisting through her words at the mere mention of the rest of them. “<em>They</em> are quite happy to sit around waiting for a glimpse of you, or providing asinine prayers in chapels hundreds of miles away. How is <em>that</em> supposed to help you? No, we split off from those kinds long ago, I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear. The rest of them are useless at best and absolutely heretical at worst. Some of them even think it’s a <em>good</em> thing, what was happening at the Palace. I can’t understand it myself – I’m sure <em>you</em> get what I mean.”</p><p>“Not… really,” Alina said, a little apologetically.</p><p>“Well, that’s no matter,” the woman said briskly. “I was prepared for that. Who knows how much he’s gotten into your head? Personally I’m not sure why nobody else saw what was going on. They all seem to think the Saints are infallible, but really a lot of them need a guiding hand.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Alina said, “but I really have no idea what you’re talking about. Who <em>are</em> you? Who are you referring to?”</p><p>“I’m <em>referring</em> to the people who saved you,” the woman said, looking at Alina with an open, shocked expression, as though she couldn’t believe Alina hadn’t guessed. “My name is Svetlana. I am the High Priestess here. My congregation might be small, but we are growing – and we have already achieved what so many claimed was impossible.”</p><p>Alina gave a small smile. <em>Svetlana</em>. She wondered if that was the woman’s real name and decided it probably wasn’t. Her accent was too common for so grand a name, even if she tried to hide it, and anyway, <em>Svetlana</em> meant <em>light</em>.</p><p>“And I’m assuming that by impossible, you mean… rescuing me?” Alina asked. “From what, exactly?”</p><p>Svetlana looked at her like she had just grown a second head.</p><p>“Saints preserve me,” she muttered, so quietly that Alina had to strain to hear her. “She can’t be serious.”</p><p>“Svetlana,” Alina said hesitantly, unnerved by how quickly Svetlana’s attention snapped to her; how her eyes seemed to brim over with tears again when she heard Alina speak her name. “I don’t meant to… insult your intelligence, but you <em>do</em> realise that I was at the Palace of my own free will, yes? You do realise I’ve… aligned myself with the Darkling? I understand why it might cause confusion, given certain information, but it’s really the best thing for—”</p><p>“The <em>Heretic</em>,” Svetlana spat, with such venom that Alina flinched. “You don’t know what you’re doing. I’m sure it was all part of <em>his</em> plan. You couldn’t possibly mean it. This is what I mean when I say that we <em>rescued</em> you, don’t you see? Oh, it’s forgivable. You’re young. Even those of us with plenty of experience in such matters can find ourselves swayed by those determined to do godless work. But you can’t possibly think he’s <em>serious</em>, can you?” She laughed, and it wasn’t a kind laugh. “No, he won’t rest until he’s corrupted every last part of you. He won’t stop until he’s pulled every last shred of holiness from you.”</p><p>Her eyes flickered to the collar and lingered there.</p><p>Alina frowned, growing annoyed. She was quite aware that many of her followers had plenty to say about her aligning herself with Aleksander, and a lot of the concerns were ones that Alina couldn’t exactly blame them for. Even Aleksander showed surprising lenience – at least for the time being, where things were still uncertain and there was still a lot of ideas that people had to get used to. Most of those loyal to Alina had decided to put their trust in her and see how things played out, just as Aleksander said they probably would, but even within the walls of the Palace Alina hadn’t been unaware of the rumours circulating, that such decisions had created a schism of sorts. She had known people like Svetlana were out there, but she hadn’t quite realised just how deep their delusions went.</p><p>It was the Saint thing that was annoying her the most, she realised. She could suck it up when people just wanted her to touch their forehead or kiss their baby or whatever, but Svetlana seemed to be taking it as fact that Alina had descended from the heavens as some kind of holy saviour. Alina was suddenly possessed by the urge to ask Svetlana if she remembered that a little over three years ago, Alina had been a nobody, an orphan peasant girl destined for nothing more than a mediocre First Army pension to starve to death on in middle age.</p><p>“Do you not trust me?” she asked instead.</p><p>Svetlana’s eyes widened slightly, and it wasn’t without guilt that Alina watched her. Aleksander had told her countless times that faith could be used to her advantage, even if she didn’t want it – she had a ready-made army of people willing to kill and die for her, after all, and that fact didn’t change just because she didn’t want them to. It was a tool that could be used, but Alina had never felt entirely comfortable with the idea and she didn’t like leaning into that advantage now.</p><p>“Of <em>course</em> I trust you,” Svetlana eventually said, with a soft laugh. “But I also see what’s best for you. Don’t you realise that sometimes it’s impossible to see that for yourself? You have no idea what you’re aligning yourself with. In fact, I strongly doubt that you’ve done it in your right mind. Who can tell the kind of power he holds over you with that abomination around your throat? I trust you, Sankta, and <em>that</em> is why you have to trust <em>me</em>.”</p><p>“You can hardly trust me if you mean to tell me what’s best for me,” Alina said coolly. Mercifully doing so came easily to her; her annoyance was entirely real, even if it was Aleksander’s tactics she could hear laced through her every word. “There are many things that you don’t understand. You can’t possibly believe that you know everything about my situation, and I strongly doubt that you understand the finer points regarding how amplifiers work. All I can ask is that you trust me when I say that I made the right choice, and that I didn’t rush blindly into it. Making this decision cost me dearly, and it isn’t something I did lightly. You need to trust me that it’s for the best, and you need to believe me when I say that in doing this you’ve put both yourself and your congregation in danger.”</p><p>Alina could sympathise; she could understand that these people had been driven by blind faith in the idea that they were doing the right thing. She didn’t particularly believe that there was any malice involved, nor did she think that these people were acting in anything other than what they thought her best interests were – but she knew beyond all doubt that Aleksander would not see it in that way. If he found this place before she could get to him and explain… Alina didn’t want to think about it.</p><p>“That won’t be an issue,” Svetlana said, still with that serene smile.</p><p>“Svetlana,” Alina said warningly. “You can’t hide from him.”</p><p>“You seem aware of what he’s capable of,” Svetlana said, “yet you still believe he’s worthy of you?”</p><p>“He’s only ever done what was necessary,” Alina snapped, and Svetlana shook her head.</p><p>“You’re already so far gone,” she said, sighing. “I think this is going to take a lot of work.”</p><p>“There’s nothing you can tell me about him that he hasn’t already shown me himself,” Alina said firmly. “I know who he is. I know what he had to become. But unlike you, I know who he’s trying to <em>be</em>. I’ve seen the world he wants to create, and it isn’t a bad one. Do you think you can achieve change with no bloodshed? Do you think things are won without sacrifice?”</p><p>Svetlana said nothing. She simply continued smiling.</p><p>“Even if he is the monster you say he is,” Alina added, “that’s all the more reason to stop this. Do you think he’ll be kind in his search for me? You’re going to get innocent people killed.”</p><p>“Of course I understand that nothing is won without sacrifice,” Svetlana said. “That is why the deaths of those people, while dreadful, are necessary. It will be worth it, Sankta, to show you back to the light.”</p><p>“I’m the Sun Summoner,” Alina snapped. “I think I’m more than qualified to find my own way there.”</p><p>“You won’t find much of it down here, Sankta Alina,” Svetlana said quietly. “Not until you’ve earned the right.”</p><p>“What are you talking about?” Alina demanded. She could sense the conversation was drawing to a close; quite suddenly she was terrified again, uncertain and out of her depth. “Where am I?”</p><p>“Somewhere safe,” Svetlana said. “Somewhere you can reflect. I’m sure you’ll come to the correct conclusions once you’re free from the Heretic’s immediate influence, but…” She paused, watching Alina for a moment before sighing. “No, I can tell this is going to be a difficult job. It’s no matter. You can trust me, Sankta, to do what’s necessary.”</p><p>“What does that mean?” Alina asked.</p><p>Svetlana only gave a polite bow of her head, and then she was gone again, the rustle of her clothing fading almost in the same second as the door swung closed. Alina remained sitting completely still, straining her ears to hear any clues, any other voices, any other footsteps – all was silent. She thought briefly, wildly, about going to the door and trying to follow – it didn’t seem to be locked – but something held her back. Perhaps it was the instinctive knowledge that an unlocked door didn’t mean an easy escape; she remembered the substance on the ropes around her wrist and got the unsettling impression that Svetlana was hoping she would disobey just for the excuse to punish her.</p><p>Alina leaned her head back against the wall, closing her eyes and trying to steady her breathing. If she could just concentrate, if she could just focus—she had no idea how Aleksander had contacted her in the way he had, only how it felt. She didn’t even know if that link was still there, though she couldn’t think how it might have vanished. Still, it didn’t change the fact that she didn’t know how to do it herself, and despite her efforts at concentrating, at trying to see if there was some instinctive knowledge buried in her that would come if she called it, she found she was incapable of it. She couldn’t focus, she couldn’t bring her mind out of the present; every time she almost succeeded some noise, real or imagined – and most likely imagined – would shake her back into the room and she would remember all over again just how much there was that she didn’t know.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Aleksander</strong>
</p>
<p>Aleksander had been awake for several hours by the time Alina had woken up, and as a result he hadn’t even seen her leave that day. He had already been in the second meeting of the day, though thinking back later he would find he couldn’t even remember what it had been about. He had known, of course, the Alina sometimes slipped out of the Palace grounds, though she had the good sense to avoid the city and instead stick to the smaller pathways through the woodland that still surrounded the Palace at the rear, sheltering it from the high winds that would blow in from that direction. Aleksander had spent many hours walking there himself over the years; in all the time he had been doing so, he had spotted other people perhaps four or five times, with most of the encounters being small peasant children trying to get a glimpse of the Palace walls. There had never been any harm in it, until that day.</p>
<p>He had always had a good ear for trouble. Even before Tolya and Tamar had approached him, even before they had entered the room, Aleksander had known something had happened. It had begun as a slight thought in the back of his head and quickly progressed to something approaching dread; he <em>knew</em>, even before he saw them, even before the day’s normality was shattered, that something was terribly, catastrophically wrong.</p>
<p>There hadn’t been many people around, which had been a blessing in the way that it meant Aleksander wouldn’t have to make excuses to that many people later. Most people who spent any time in court these days was used to him having to hurry away and deal with things, considering he was currently occupying a dual role, but Aleksander knew that even with such interruptions being normal, nobody would be able to ignore the fact that something was different about this occasion. Tolya and Tamar were usually inscrutable, but Aleksander could see it in their eyes – it was always in the eyes. He felt a flicker of annoyance when he saw it, born from the fear that was now threatening to consume him. Why did people bother hiding their emotions from their faces if they never bothered to hide it from their eyes? What was the point?</p>
<p>“<em>Moi soverenyi</em>,” Tolya said lowly, drawing level. He glanced quickly around the room, seeing everyone looking pointedly away, and dropped his voice another octave. “An urgent word.”</p>
<p>If Aleksander hadn’t already known that whatever had happened was utterly unprecedented, he would have known then. He was well aware of the fact that Tolya and Tamar stayed for Alina and for Alina only; he was well aware that their loyalty was to her and not to him. The only reason they tolerated him was because Alina had asked them to trust her, and in trusting her they would have to trust him. The alliance was a rocky one at best, and it was rare that the three of them were together without Alina. They took their orders from her, and anything Aleksander wanted them to do was relayed to them through Alina, with the implication that it was Alina’s idea. It was simpler that way, but Aleksander still didn’t appreciate the situation; as a result, he avoided them as much as possible, and they seemed content to do the same.</p>
<p>So the fact that Tolya had addressed him without even the hint of a sneer, without even a trace of contempt? The fact that he could barely meet his eye, and that his sister, always so fierce and almost looking for an excuse to snipe at him, was merely standing by and <em>wringing her hands</em>? Aleksander watched her and she caught him watching; her hands stilled abruptly.</p>
<p>He didn’t say anything. He didn’t trust himself. He could feel something cold and jagged growing in his chest; he was afraid that if he spoke, he would say what he feared. Such a thing was not something to announce to the room at large. Instead he stepped away, heading quickly for the doors, Tolya and Tamar at his heels. Within a moment they were hidden away in a side room, grandly furnished like everywhere in the Palace, solely for the benefit of whoever the King had decided to keep waiting until it suited him to receive them.</p>
<p>“What?” Aleksander snapped, as the door clicked closed behind them. “What have you done?”</p>
<p>It was a strange question to ask, but as soon as he said it Aleksander realised he knew. He had known all along; he was just waiting for them to say it.</p>
<p>“It’s Alina, <em>moi soverenyi</em>,” Tolya said quietly.</p>
<p>“Where is she?” Aleksander demanded.</p>
<p>The silence was brief, but Aleksander had almost been about to break it in what would have probably been a violent manner when Tamar finally spoke up.</p>
<p>“We have reason to believe she’s been abducted, <em>moi soverenyi</em>,” she said, her voice low but firm. “At least, that’s what all the evidence points towards.”</p>
<p>“You have <em>reason to believe</em>?” Aleksander repeated. It took all of his effort to keep his voice steady; he was aware that the two Heartrenders could sense everything he couldn’t hide, all the ways the anger was making its presence felt through his body. He hoped they focused on that. He didn’t want them sensing the fear. “How can you not <em>know</em>?”</p>
<p>“It happened very quickly, <em>moi soverenyi</em>,” Tamar answered. “Of course we searched the area, but it’s as though she vanished into thin air.”</p>
<p>“You’re familiar with the area,” Tolya added. “You know that visibility can be interrupted at times, especially in the summer. Alina was out of our direct line of sight for all of a few seconds, but we could still feel her. There was an… irregularity, and by the time we reached where she was last, she was gone.”</p>
<p>“An irregularity?” Aleksander asked. “I can appreciate the fact that you’re both signing your own death warrants right now, but I would go perhaps slightly easier on the both of you if you would <em>give me a straight answer</em>.”</p>
<p>“It appeared she was drugged, <em>moi soverenyi</em>,” Tamar said. “It’s likely someone was nearby who managed to stick her with something. Whoever they were, they weren’t close enough to feel.”</p>
<p>“We did, however, feel the people who showed up to take her,” Tolya added. “We…” He paused, as though wondering if he should continue, before he shook his head. “We managed to intercept one of them. We had him sent to the prison.”</p>
<p>So <em>there</em> was the reason for the pause. Aleksander gave a tight smile. The twins had always been outspoken on the kind of person he was; no doubt that even through all this, they still felt bad for handing him over. Aleksander supposed they were right to think it. He was going to make the sorry bastard wish he’d never been born – right after he was done here.</p>
<p>“Well, congratulations,” he said sarcastically. “You saved the day. Never mind that the person you swore to protect has been abducted, never mind you never saw it coming, never mind that there isn’t a <em>scratch</em> on the pair of you.”</p>
<p>He looked them over again, letting them feel every moment his eyes were on them. It took everything he had not to go out there and begin looking himself, but such a thing would be useless. He had no clues to go on, he had no way of knowing this wasn’t a set-up. For all he knew, Alina was the lure and he was the target. It would make sense. He strongly doubted any Fjerdan or Shu units would have made it into the heart of Os Alta unnoticed, and anyone left in Ravka with an interest in abducting Alina were not people he thought would wish her dead. He, on the other hand, would be fair game.</p>
<p>The twins held their ground, but Aleksander was aware of the fact they could sense his anger; he could see the fear in their eyes, even if they tried to hide it behind defiance. If this was a trick, they had made some effort to back up their story – their shoes were covered in dust and dried mud, their clothing slightly ragged from branches and thorns. They had clearly been off the trail, but whether for an honest reason or to back up a story, Aleksander didn’t know.</p>
<p><em>The prisoner,</em> Aleksander reminded himself. There was no way the two of them would hand over an innocent scapegoat to him, accused of such a thing. Would they? Aleksander knew that these zealot types could be beyond insane.</p>
<p>“I can’t stress enough how quickly it happened,” Tamar eventually said. Aleksander waited patiently. He had found over the years that it was always the silence people couldn’t stand. They would ramble on to fill it, and what they said was usually interesting. “It was quite literally like she vanished. A slight scuff in the trail where she had fallen; we followed it off trail and through maybe six or seven feet of undergrowth, and then nothing. It had simply vanished. No leaves disturbed, no branches snapped. There was a patch of dirt that was suspiciously patterned, like someone had smoothed it over with a fallen branch to hide footsteps, but we looked all around the area and there was nowhere the footsteps could have led to.”</p>
<p>“We have people out there still searching the area,” Tolya added. “They’re combing through every inch of it. But aside from that one person, there’s nothing.”</p>
<p>“Where did you find this person, if all of his friends are so good at vanishing?” Aleksander asked.</p>
<p>“Slightly back from the trail, over to the west side of the trees,” Tamar answered. “I think, if anyone, he was perhaps the person who drugged her. If he had some method of tranquilisation, he could have fired it from a short distance. He was heading away from where she vanished, meaning that they might have multiple points of entry.”</p>
<p>“Did he identify himself?”</p>
<p>“No. He didn’t seem overly concerned that he was caught, either.” Tamar frowned. “I wondered if it was perhaps a ploy; if he had been left behind deliberately, but it doesn’t seem to be that way. There was the initial reaction when he saw us, it was clear it hadn’t been planned. But once we had him restrained and let his heartrate return to normal, he seemed very calm. Almost resigned to it.”</p>
<p>“He’s said nothing about who he is or who he’s working for, but he’s Ravkan,” Tolya said. “Peasant accent, slightly northern. Every time we asked him a question he said he would only speak to you. Well, he said he would only speak to the <em>Black Heretic</em>, but as far as I’m aware it’s common knowledge that the two of you are one and the same.”</p>
<p>Aleksander smiled. “I’m sure he’ll regret that request soon enough.”</p>
<p>He stepped around them, going to one of the room’s large windows. Outside on the grounds everything seemed completely normal – it seemed almost insulting, that the world continued on in the same way it had always done. He deepened the shadows in the room to better keep an eye on Tolya and Tamar, but they hadn’t moved outside of turning so they were still facing him. They didn’t seem about to try and speak, and so Aleksander let his mind drift, seeking out that connection that would always come to him at the slightest thought; the one that had kept he and Alina linked over those months of planning. It was still there – Aleksander doubted it ever left – but it was fainter, and now when he pulled against it the tether remained slack, like nothing was holding it at the other side.</p>
<p>Aleksander knew that feeling. It felt similar to how it did when Alina was sleeping, though when she was merely asleep it wasn’t quite so noticeable. He had always gotten the impression that if he tugged hard enough he would be able to wake her, but there was no such impression here. Tolya and Tamar weren’t lying about that much – whatever had happened, wherever she was, she was deeply unconscious.</p>
<p>Without thinking, he had begun chewing at the side of his thumbnail – a habit from childhood that his mother had been quick to slap out of him. He quickly let his hand drop and turned, so abruptly that he saw a tremor pass through Tolya and Tamar as they fought the urge to step back from him.</p>
<p>“Your only duty.” He spoke quietly, hearing the anger sharpen every word. “Your <em>only</em> duty was to keep her safe. The only reason I permitted the pair of you to stay here – the only reason I didn’t have you executed alongside the Lantsov loyalists – was because she vouched for you. I kept you around as a favour <em>to her</em>. What use are you now? Now you’ve let her down – perhaps you’ve even betrayed her?”</p>
<p>Their eyes widened slightly, before clouding with genuine anger.</p>
<p>“We would never,” Tamar said firmly.</p>
<p>“You think we have something to do with this?” Tolya asked. “You think we set her up?”</p>
<p>“Why not?” Aleksander asked, his tone almost conversational again. “I know what your lot are like. Do you think I’ve never seen a cult before? Zealots are deranged. There’s nothing they won’t do for the cause. They make incredible front-line soldiers for that reason; they’ll just run headlong into anything without a lick of fear. It’s quite respectable, in some ways. With that in mind I’m sure you could have found enough people to stage something like this. It’s a risk, trying to snatch Alina from right under my nose, but it’s a risk that they would have all been content in taking. I don’t think any of you wish to harm her, but I do think that there’s the possibility that I might be the real target? Or that perhaps you believe you know what’s best for Alina better than she does?”</p>
<p>“If you could look beyond your paranoia for five seconds—” Tolya burst out, but Tamar shook her head.</p>
<p>“It isn’t paranoia,” she said. “It’s logical. It makes sense. Think about it, Tolya. How perfect does this look?”</p>
<p>“The two of you are impressively powerful,” Aleksander said. “I find it difficult to believe that you could have allowed enough people to succeed in a kidnapping go unnoticed, considering I’ve had Heartrenders half your age successfully identify people in hiding merely through their resting heartrates.” He raised an eyebrow. “Unless you’re willing to concede that perhaps your lack of training has left you wanting.”</p>
<p>“Do you really think we should be arguing about this when Alina is Saints only know where—”</p>
<p>“I’ll <em>tell</em> you what we’re discussing,” Aleksander snapped. The shadows around them jumped, flickering and pulling themselves from walls and corners, the entire room seeming to shift and change shape. Aleksander barely noticed, but Tolya and Tamar certainly did. “We’re discussing your part in all this. We’re discussing if I let you walk out of this room alive. Do you know what you’ve <em>done</em>?”</p>
<p>He clenched his fist and the shadows around him deepened until they looked almost solid. The <em>nichevo’ya</em> formed as soon as he shaped the thought in his head, feeding from his anger, excitable and agitated. Tolya and Tamar went white; Aleksander couldn’t help but laugh.</p>
<p>“Oh, no,” he said, almost gently. “Not for you. Not yet.”</p>
<p>The <em>nichevo’ya</em> circled the room once, the beat of their wings impossibly loud in the small space, the skittering of their claws sharp enough to hurt, and then they found the small gaps at the windows and doors and vanished through them, the sound of their wings fading away as they struck out towards the rear grounds. The room was left strangely lighter than before.</p>
<p>“They’ll be able to search an area much more thoroughly than anyone you’ve left in charge,” Aleksander explained. “Though I’m sure nobody looking on your behalf would mention anything even if they should find it, will they?”</p>
<p>“We had nothing to do with this,” Tolya said firmly. “I know it seems impossible, but there has to be an explanation. People don’t just <em>vanish</em>.”</p>
<p>“And yet the Sun Summoner disappears out from under your very nose!” Aleksander said loudly. “The two of you, what a coincidence! The only people on her guard loyal to her and her alone; with no allegiance to me despite her own loyalty. The only two people covered with those zealot tattoos! The only two people with a reason to want to smuggle her out of here; with a reason to want us separated. The only two who might want me dead. I’d say in those circumstances, somebody could easily vanish. Wouldn’t you?”</p>
<p>“We’re alone in this room,” Tolya shot back. “Do you think if we wanted to kill you so badly, we wouldn’t see our opportunity now? We’re Heartrenders. Do you think we even need to be this close?”</p>
<p>Aleksander laughed. “You might fancy yourself a threat now you’ve killed Ivan, but I dare you to try the same thing with me.”</p>
<p>“So if it’s impossible, why are you so worried?”</p>
<p>“Do you think this is about the wanting me dead?” Aleksander asked. “Do you think I’m still surprised by such things? People have been trying to kill me since I was a small child; I hardly notice these things anymore. Attempted murderers don’t bother me, but traitors?” He smiled. “Do you know what I do to traitors?”</p>
<p>“I’ve heard,” Tolya said stiffly.</p>
<p>“And seen, no doubt,” Aleksander added. “Though I have been known to make the inevitable slightly quicker if I don’t have to waste too much time getting a confession.”</p>
<p>“We have nothing to confess,” Tamar said coolly.</p>
<p>“Hm,” Aleksander said.</p>
<p>It had taken him only a moment to read them, to decide. Tolya was more explosively angry; he couldn’t be trusted. It was Tamar who held the clue, Tamar who was capable of keeping herself under control, her anger icy and deceptively calm rather than explosive and impulsive. The twins were too busy watching him to notice the <em>nichevo’ya</em> peeling themselves from the deepening shadows at the sides of the room; perhaps they had forgotten in the face of the current situation, or maybe they simply didn’t realise he could call as many as he wished, that the ones he had sent in search of clues were not the only ones he had at his disposal. Either way, there was a moment of horrified surprise when the creatures grabbed hold of Tolya, dragging him roughly to the ground despite his instinctive struggling. Most people, Aleksander found, gave up the struggling when they realised what held them – the horror of being touched by something so unnatural, perhaps, or maybe the realisation that it was useless, that for shadows they were deceptively strong. Tolya, to his credit, didn’t give up; Aleksander allowed him to make it back to his knees before the creatures stood their ground, stopping him from rising any more.</p>
<p>Tamar took a half-step closer, but that was as far as she could go. She barely avoided the clawed hand that swiped inches from her face; she recoiled, more disgust than fear evident on her face.</p>
<p>“Tamar,” Aleksander said sharply. “You seem the more sensible one. You have five seconds to tell the truth, or your brother is going to be nothing more than a torso and perhaps some legs, if I’m feeling generous.”</p>
<p>She looked at him. “You’re out of your mind.”</p>
<p>“Yes, yes,” Aleksander said, bored.</p>
<p>“We didn’t have anything to do with this.”</p>
<p>“Three seconds, now.”</p>
<p>The <em>nichevo’ya</em> tightened their grip enough that Tolya gave a grunt of pain; Tamar looked to him, her face slack with terror, and then back to Aleksander.</p>
<p>“<em>We have nothing to do with this,</em>” she repeated. “Think what you want. We would rather die than falsely claim we betrayed our Saint.”</p>
<p>Aleksander gave a tight smile. It was the eyes again – even through the fear on her face, even through the beginnings of the grief she was already preparing herself for, Aleksander could see the truth of the words.</p>
<p>“Not betrayal, then,” he said quietly. The <em>nichevo’ya</em> vanished abruptly, sending Tolya sprawling to the ground. He quickly recovered, stumbling to his feet, and Aleksander had to admire the way the twins stood their ground; didn’t immediately go to one another. “Negligence. Perhaps just as unforgivable, in the current circumstance.”</p>
<p>The twins exchanged a glance. Tamar had quickly recovered herself, most of the earlier panic hidden; Tolya still looked angry, though there was pain in his face, too; he held one shoulder slightly stiffly, and Aleksander could see blood darkening his clothing. There seemed to be some unspoken communication that passed through them, because when Tamar next looked at Aleksander, she was determined over <em>something</em>.</p>
<p>“<em>Moi soverenyi</em>,” she said, and this time there was a slight strain on the words – Aleksander found that more reassuring than the earlier acceptance. “My brother and I don’t pretend that we didn’t make a catastrophic mistake. We know we failed in our duties and we know that this is a result of our oversight. We understand that such negligence deserves punishment, and we feel we would deserve it. When the time comes, we won’t fight it. All we ask is that we’re allowed to assist in finding her; in getting her back. It is a fact we both accept that negligence to this degree could easily be punishable by death. If that’s the case, we ask to be allowed to die having put some of this right.”</p>
<p>“And we ask that we receive our Saint’s judgement before death,” Tolya added quietly.</p>
<p>Aleksander considered for a moment. He wouldn’t lie to himself and say that he didn’t want the two of them thrown into the deepest dungeon he could find – and he was aware there were some nasty ones under the Palace. That would be gratifying, but it wouldn’t be practical. He was never comfortable with wasting Grisha, especially not when they were as powerful as Tolya and Tamar, and certainly not now, when their numbers were lacking. The twins were still loyal to Alina, and he knew that much wouldn’t change. Their guilt was more leverage against them. They would never be easier for him to control than they would be now, with their guilt in his hands. He could use some of that zealot fervour, just in case things got dangerous.</p>
<p>“I will allow it in exchange for total cooperation,” he eventually said. “One toe out of line from either of you, and the other one will pay. Do you understand?”</p>
<p>They nodded.</p>
<p>“Walk with me,” he said. “The <em>nichevo’ya</em> need to expand their range. While we walk, you can tell me everything you know about this cult of yours.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Alina</strong>
</p>
<p>Alina saw nobody for almost two days after Svetlana left. Or, she thought it was close to two days. Really she couldn’t be sure; she measured time by the vague activity she could hear in the hall beyond her door, the quick swish of clothing that was almost immediately drowned out the second she heard it. There was stone everywhere, she supposed; the same thick, grey stone that made up her room, that stopped time. She guessed that the activity would be slightly more in the day hours, when more people would be awake, and so when everything grew quieter she would assume it was evening; when everything was completely still she assumed it was night. For all she knew they could be working on a completely different clock, so she wasn’t sure how accurate her assumptions were – she was certain they were underground now, so what would daylight matter anyway? The people living down here might have forgotten all about the surface, might not see it as important anymore. They might have slipped into their own routine, and it could have barely been a day. The thought filled Alina with despair.</p>
<p>Her body gave her some clues. The situation had all but wiped out her ability to sleep, as had her discomfort – her hands hurt every time she moved even slightly, and her headache had grown so bad that when the oil lamp on the wall had sputtered and gone out, Alina had breathed a sigh of relief. The darkness and the silence had been welcome, and she had hoped that it would ease the pain in her head. As time had passed she realised that the headache was no longer a side effect of whatever she had been given to knock her out; it was now due to dehydration, and it grew worse by the hour. She had had nothing to drink since waking up, and her throat had been dry even then. Now it was completely parched, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth, her throat burning every time she tried to swallow. Nausea rocked through her with every slight movement of her head, and she could feel her pulse pounding behind her eyes. The thirst was maddening; gone were her thoughts of where she was or what these people wanted with her. All she could think about was water; ice cold in a glass frosty with how cool it was, or crisp and clear in a running stream. Sometimes she was sure she could <em>hear</em> it, hear the water trickling past her, and she would forget herself and sit up. Only when the pain and retching rocked through her did she realise her mistake; the sound of it – the <em>smell</em> of the water, she could <em>smell</em> it – would vanish, and she would collapse back against thin cover on the floor, thinking that she might cry with the frustration and disappointment if she only had enough fluid in her body for tears.</p>
<p>The last time she had had a drink had been at breakfast the morning she was taken, and even then, it hadn’t been water. It had been mostly water, being tea, but she could never forgive herself for drinking something so <em>hot</em> on a summer’s day, when there had been orange juice and jugs of water brimming with ice. If she had done her calculations correctly she had been without water for almost two and a half days now – her last drink of <em>water</em> being the night before she had been taken – and without any drink at all for two days. She knew that people generally died of dehydration after three or four days. But that was a normal person, an <em>otkazat’sya</em>. How long could she go without water, suffering like this? How long could somebody as powerful as Aleksander go? Did it make a difference, that she couldn’t user her power right now? It had only been a couple of days – not long enough to severely sicken her. Just long enough that it was a constant frustration; an itch that couldn’t be scratched.</p>
<p>Sometimes she was sure she would die. The thirst was unbearable, and every part of her body seemed to be wrong. Her limbs didn’t feel right, nothing inside her felt right. Her thoughts wouldn’t come to her properly; they were disjointed and unclear, and sometimes she would lay for a long time thinking she saw patterns in the total darkness around her. She would see colours, faces, people she knew; sometimes she was sure somebody was in the room with her, and she wondered briefly if there actually <em>was</em>, if it could be Aleksander, but she was too weak to keep hold of him. He would always slip away the moment she noticed his presence, like when she realised she was dreaming and immediately woke up, something forbidden to her being snatched away the moment she was aware of it.</p>
<p>Frequently she would hallucinate that her hands weren’t tied. She supposed she was so used to her hands being free that her body just didn’t register that part; time and time again she had tried to move one hand only to feel the resistance of the other. Several times she had tried to summon her power and she had <em>seen</em> it, she had seen the glow begin around her fingers, and the sudden surge of hope – that this had all been a dream, that it wasn’t real – would jolt her out of the illusion and she would realise all over again that it was happening, that she was stuck here, helpless, so thirsty she was hallucinating. It was strange, to know that was what was occurring. She found that parts of her mind that were usually closed to her were open now, flowing through her like she was simply its conductor, memories forming with no effort and playing out like she was living them again, only she was seeing them from somewhere outside herself. She remembered when she had been horribly sick at the orphanage, some kind of infection, they’d said, though when she was older she had never bothered to ask what it was. She remembered feeling like this, though, only then she had been smaller and she hadn’t understood about hallucinations, hadn’t known that her fever was making her see things that weren’t there. She remembered the strange faces that had warped and shifted around her, remembered someone gently washing her burning forehead with cool water, how she had raved about colours and animals and strange people with arms and legs too long to be human. She remembered being scared for weeks afterwards that they would come back, and then she was worried that they would come back <em>now</em>, that she would see them again.</p>
<p><em>Don’t worry</em>, she told herself vaguely. <em>You were scared of the dark, remember? You were scared of the dark but now you’re the light.</em></p>
<p>She giggled, the sound alien and far away, jagged from her dry throat. It seemed funny to her ears and she laughed again, even though it hurt, and that was how Svetlana found her. Staring blankly at nothing on the ceiling, her eyes flickering back and forth as though there was something there worth watching – and laughing to herself, looking every bit the lunatic.</p>
<p>The door had been left open, and the flickering light from the hallway cast the room in a dull orange glow. It was a pretty colour, Alina thought, so dark yet so <em>orange</em>; she had never seen anything like it before, apart from perhaps at sunset.</p>
<p>“I miss the sunset,” she mumbled, though her throat was too dry and her tongue too sticky for the words to be clear.</p>
<p>She didn’t notice Svetlana until the woman was kneeling beside her, looking at her thoughtfully. Alina paid her no attention at first. She was used to feeling people kneeling next to her or standing over her; they were never real, and she saw no reason to believe that this instance was any different. Only when Svetlana touched her did she realise that perhaps someone was there after all, but her alarm was softened somewhat by the realisation that there was moisture on her lips; that Svetlana was dabbing water onto them.</p>
<p>Alina licked it instinctively, barely even thinking as her tongue scraped over her cracked lips. It was too dry to bear at first, the moisture on her lips immediately vanishing the second her tongue touched it, but gradually she noticed a difference; her tongue was less sticky, she felt as though she could move it around her mouth again. It was nowhere near <em>enough</em>, though; when Svetlana stopped, Alina heard herself make a sound that was more animal than human – almost a <em>growl</em>. She pushed herself up slightly, her anger making her briefly forget the fact that every movement made her skull feel like it was being split in two.</p>
<p>“Give me that,” she croaked. Even with the weakness of her voice, the anger was present. “Give me that water.”</p>
<p>“In a moment, Sankta,” Svetlana said patiently. “First we need to talk. Then you can have some more.”</p>
<p>Alina didn’t think she was going to be capable of listening to a word Svetlana said, but somehow she didn’t think that would be too much of an issue. Svetlana didn’t seem the kind of person who would like a lot of input whenever she was speaking at length about things. Alina thought she could probably get away with agreeing – she didn’t have to <em>mean</em> it. Court life had introduced her well to the concept of duplicity.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, it seemed that Svetlana was a little more concerned for Alina’s immortal soul than Alina had given her credit for.</p>
<p>“So,” Svetlana said, leaning back against her heels as though kneeling for prayer. “Have you thought about what I said?”</p>
<p>Alina fought the urge to roll her eyes. Why couldn’t Svetlana just be like the Apparat? He had been quite content to just lecture her. The only reason she managed to avoid her eyes rolling of their own accord was because some part of her recognised how much it would hurt her head.</p>
<p>“I don’t think this is fair,” she eventually managed. Her words seemed to scrape over her throat hard enough that she thought it might bleed. “If I give you the wrong answer, you’re not going to let me drink.”</p>
<p>“Do you think that of me?” Svetlana asked, tilting her head slightly. She looked genuinely put out by the thought. “Is that the kind of treatment you’re used to, Sankta?”</p>
<p>Alina narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”</p>
<p>“Well,” Svetlana said, with a small shrug. “That’s not what one would expect, is it? The assumption that if you don’t act in a pleasing manner, you’ll be deprived of basic necessities. Is that what happens at the Palace?”</p>
<p>Alina laughed, even though it hurt her throat far more than talking did.</p>
<p>“In the <em>Palace</em>,” she said harshly, “I’m allowed to go where I wish and do as I please. I’m certainly not stuck in a little cell in the dark, with my hands tied so tightly I can no longer feel them.”</p>
<p>“You have to understand,” Svetlana said patiently. “It’s for—”</p>
<p>“My own good, is it?” Alina demanded. “I’ll die of thirst, but it’s for my own good.”</p>
<p>“Surely you don’t think something so simple could kill somebody as powerful as you are?” Svetlana asked, surprised. “But very well. I have no idea why these are still on, anyway.”</p>
<p>The knot in the rope was tight but simple; only its angle had stopped Alina getting at it properly. Before Alina could even register what was happening, Svetlana had reached over and tugged the rope in a couple of choice places; immediately the rope loosened, and Alina watched in disbelief as Svetlana quickly pulled it away. She could hardly believe Svetlana had done it, but before she could wonder too much about that she had to worry about the state of her hands. They were mostly milk-white, crisscrossed all over by angry red grooves where the rope had bitten in. She tried to clench her fists or move her fingers, not wishing for the return of blood to last any longer than it had to, but her hands refused to obey her. It was as though they were someone else’s; when she moved her arms and rested them on her lap, she had the unnerving sensation that someone else was touching her.</p>
<p>“I <em>do</em> hope you don’t have any lasting damage,” Svetlana said, frowning. “I didn’t realise they were so <em>tight</em>. What on earth did they think you were going to do down here?”</p>
<p>“I won’t be much good as a Saint if you’ve ruined my hands,” Alina said coolly. She was a little impressed with herself. None of her own worry leeched into the words; they had been all Aleksander’s control, all Aleksander’s judgement.</p>
<p>“The blood will return,” Svetlana said, but she glanced at them uncertainly. “I’m sure there will be no lasting effects. Grisha as powerful as you heal quickly and heal well. No doubt that will go double when you’re blessed.”</p>
<p>“Like all the other Saints were blessed?” Alina asked. “The last I checked, they all met horrible ends.”</p>
<p>“Times were different then,” Svetlana said eagerly. “People didn’t <em>understand</em>. Oh, but we were so <em>ignorant</em> back then. No wonder the Saints stopped coming to us for so long. Of course, for them, it was probably more like twenty years rather than close on a thousand, but I can still understand it. I’m sure they’re all still out there somewhere, though. I don’t think it’s so easy to kill a Saint.”</p>
<p>“I also don’t think it’s wise to abduct one and tie her up in a cellar,” Alina put in hopefully, but Svetlana was shaking her head before she had even finished the sentence.</p>
<p>“I know what must be done, Sankta,” she said. “Which brings me back to my original point. I take it from your answer that you <em>haven’t</em> thought any more about what I said?”</p>
<p>She hadn’t. Of course she hadn’t – she had been too busy thinking about how wonderful it would be if a cold mountain stream had started inexplicably running through her room. Had she <em>actually</em> been a Saint blessed of divine power, she would have probably proven it then and there and made such a thing a reality. As it happened no stream had miraculously appeared, and her wondering had quickly degenerated into hallucinating and after that she hadn’t really been capable of rational thought.</p>
<p>“You disappoint me,” Svetlana sighed.</p>
<p>“Sorry,” Alina said shortly. “I was a little distracted.”</p>
<p>“True enlightenment can only come in times of duress!”</p>
<p>The force of Svetlana’s words took Alina by surprise; she had never heard her raise her voice before, not even slightly, and she had never heard her speak with anything other than a gentle, calm surety. This was completely different; even in the low lighting Alina could see that Svetlana’s face had changed, twisted into something angry, <em>venomous</em>. She felt some of her earlier hopes wither to nothing. This woman – and whatever congregation she led – would likely not be pacified so easily.</p>
<p>“Do you <em>honestly</em> expect,” Svetlana continued, her voice forced back into some imitation of calm, “that you will find <em>any</em> truths sitting comfortably? Why do you think the Heretic keeps you in such comfort at the Palace? If you’re comfortable you have no reason to look at the truth of things. If you’re kept comfortable you can ignore the reality of your situation; you can convince yourself you don’t want to change it. If someone is especially skilled, you might not even realise you’re in a terrible situation to begin with. Even if you <em>did</em>, who would help you? They would look at your surroundings, look at your luxuries, and they would laugh in your face. It’s very clever, but it doesn’t fool me.”</p>
<p>Alina swallowed, what little moisture remaining in her mouth doing little to help. Her fingers tingled painfully and she knew she should probably try to move them, but the thought of the sharp pins and needles travelling up her entire arm was nauseating. Now she actually had a small amount of water in her stomach, she didn’t want to risk it. Even so, the constant tingling was almost as maddening as the thirst had been.</p>
<p>“You will realise, Sankta,” Svetlana said, sounding suddenly desperate. She grabbed one of Alina’s wrists and Alina winced, hissing through her teeth as the pins and needles radiated through her arm up to her elbow. It was every bit as unpleasant as she’d feared it would be. “You <em>have</em> to realise. It hurts me, to know that I might have to push the boundaries of what could be deemed <em>necessary</em>. But it <em>is</em> necessary. You cannot go on like this! You <em>must</em> see the truth!”</p>
<p>Svetlana’s grip tightened until it was unbearable, and the pain made Alina briefly angry enough to wrench her arm away, discomfort be damned.</p>
<p>“Do you even know what you’re talking about?” she demanded. She probably shouldn’t be talking so much – she could feel her tongue growing sticky again – but she couldn’t stop herself. “Do you know <em>anything</em> about the situation, or are you just seeing what you want to see? The world isn’t made of good and evil, Svetlana. You can’t divide everything up and put people on the relevant side. Do you think <em>I’m</em> innocent? I have blood on my hands as well.”</p>
<p>“Would you, if not for him?” Svetlana asked. “I know what happened on the Fold. I’ve heard all about it. Nobody blames <em>you</em>. What were you supposed to do? You realised then the danger you were in. You realised it enough to kill to get away, even though it must have destroyed you to do so. What changed? You would kill to get away, and now you claim to have aligned yourself with the same monster who forced your hand.”</p>
<p>“He isn’t a monster,” Alina said, surprising herself with the anger in her voice. “You don’t understand. Nothing is won without blood. Do you think he’ll be like this for the rest of his life? Do you think he’s <em>been</em> like this all his life? When you were busy counting out his crimes, did you stop to think about the crimes of the Lantsov family, the deaths to their name, with their endless wars and famines? Did you count up all the Grisha who have been murdered across the world? Are those sins counted, too? Or is it just his?”</p>
<p>Svetlana struck her with such speed and such unexpectedness that it took Alina several seconds to work out that that was what had happened. By the time she had realised she was in pain, the impact was a memory she was sure couldn’t have actually occurred, and Svetlana’s hands were clasped in her lap again, looking as though they had never moved. Only the drip of blood at her lip reassured Alina that it hadn’t been some kind of strange hallucination – that, and the fact that she could see a drop of blood shining on Svetlana’s ring, seeming to tremble in the flickering light of the hall lanterns.</p>
<p>Alina’s head ached more than ever, but her fingers were at least beginning to obey her. She reached up, touching at her lip, reassured in some strange way by the pain. The feeling in her fingers still wasn’t consistent; her hand still felt wooden, and it was a relief to realise that her lip still felt like real, living flesh. Without thinking, she caught her lip between her teeth and sucked the blood away. The pain was a welcome distraction from her headache, and she would be lying if she pretended that the blood wasn’t a relief to her dry mouth.</p>
<p>“I apologise, Sankta,” Svetlana said quietly, sounding genuinely remorseful. “It is never something I enjoy doing, but it was necessary. I cannot permit you to speak such heresy.”</p>
<p>Alina said nothing, still sucking on her injured lip. She supposed that in the dim lighting her silence seemed dignified, but truth be told she was trying not to cry. She was no stranger to violence by this point, and she had been struck a few times for insolence as a child, but never had somebody <em>punched </em>her. She didn’t know why it had shocked her so much – perhaps she just hadn’t expected it of someone as apparently serene as Svetlana, or perhaps she had been banking on her status as a living Saint awarding her more protection. Either way she felt horribly betrayed, and that combined with her frustration at herself for feeling that way made her want to cry like a small child. She would at least save herself the indignity of that.</p>
<p>“Perhaps he has told you other falsehoods,” Svetlana continued. “I will admit that I don’t know the details of what he might have told you. But he is not a man to align yourself with, Sankta. He is <em>evil</em>. Such evil shows itself in his very power. No man should be able to command darkness.”</p>
<p>“But a woman is allowed to wield the sun?” Alina asked.</p>
<p>“It is all about <em>balance</em>, Sankta,” Svetlana said patiently. “Do you think your ability would have manifested so gloriously if there wasn’t a need for it? This is what you have been awarded so you might combat him. Light against darkness, the way it should be. Why do you think you discovered your power on the Fold?”</p>
<p>“Because Grisha often discover their abilities while their lives are threatened,” Alina said, growing impatient. “And my unit was being swarmed by <em>volcra</em>. I had just seen friends carried into the air and torn apart. I believed my best friend was about to be killed. That’s why I discovered my power then. I doubt that I would have been attacked by <em>volcra</em> anywhere else.”</p>
<p>Svetlana shook her head. “<em>Balance</em>, Sankta.”</p>
<p>“There were Sun Summoners before me,” Alina snapped. “I’m not unique.”</p>
<p>“Not since the time of the Black Heretic!” Svetlana snapped back. “After the Fold was created, they all vanished! Not a single one of them left! Oh, they were never <em>common</em>, but there was certainly a few of them around – perhaps a half dozen. Nobody knows where they went. The prevailing theory is that the creation of the Fold destroyed their power. Something about the evil of the place pulled the goodness from everything around it, people and nature alike. The lands turned barren; everything became fossilised or turned to dust. The humans remaining in the area – you saw what became of them. The ground itself is ashen because <em>nothing</em> can survive in the face of such evil, and you align yourself with the man who did it?”</p>
<p>“It was an accident,” Alina said, but she could hear how useless the words sounded.</p>
<p>“It was <em>arrogance</em>,” Svetlana said. “Any history book will testify to the arrogance of the Black Heretic. He was nothing more than a power-hungry fool, trying to bend the universe to his will. Do you think he’s changed, Sankta? Do you think a monster like that <em>can</em> change?”</p>
<p>“I’ll change him!” Alina yelled. She hadn’t meant to; her throat burned in protest, but she barely noticed. “<em>I’m</em> his balance! He knows his weaknesses. He’s always been honest about them. He’s trying – does that mean nothing? He doesn’t <em>want</em> to be a monster! You talk about balance, <em>this</em> is balance! We need to be together! We were <em>meant</em> to work together!”</p>
<p>This time she saw the hit coming. She sacrificed dodging entirely in favour of twisting around and kicking her feet out; Svetlana’s fist glanced off her chin and landed with only a dull impact at her shoulder, but Alina’s feet managed to land a solid hit to Svetlana’s stomach. Alina was barefoot, meaning the impact didn’t have quite as much force as she would have liked – she would have preferred to send Svetlana clean across the room and into the stone wall – but it <em>had</em> been unexpected. There was an advantage there.</p>
<p>Alina forced herself to her feet, crashing against the wall before she could properly right herself. Hitting the wall caused her head to spin, her vision darkening like she had stood up too quickly, but Alina was no stranger to that – she had experienced it every time she stood up for most of her life, thanks to how sickly she had been as a child. She had plenty of practise in stumbling blindly through it, holding a deep breath and tensing as though she were trying to pop her ears; the darkness cleared, but by that time she was already across the room, heading to where she remembered the door was.</p>
<p><em>Go up</em>, she thought wildly. <em>If you can just go up—if there’s even the smallest bit of light—</em></p>
<p>She would show them just how holy their Saint was. She would show them just how <em>good</em> she was, how <em>pure</em>—would they still think that when she sent the Cut through their Priestess?</p>
<p>The hallway was colder than her room; she could feel a breeze, and that told her the direction to go. If there was a breeze there was an opening; there would be light. Even the fact it might be night no longer mattered to her – she had the amplifiers, she had been practising. She had turned night to day many times. She found herself hoping it <em>was</em> night. It would give her an advantage, she was sure – so many people thought she would be useless at night, as helpless as Aleksander was on the Fold. They always forgot about the moonlight. They always forget where it got its glow from.</p>
<p>Unfortunately the layout of the halls left her at a disadvantage. She only had one sure direction to go – wherever the breeze was coming from – and she had the added pressure of Svetlana’s hurried footsteps behind her. Alina was still weak, her body still wracked with the effects of dehydration, her hands heavy and useless for any kind of defence. She was also totally unaware of the turns and side-passages, and so when the figure suddenly stepped out right in front of her, barely a foot away, she had no other option than to crash right into him. Even with her wild struggling, born completely of adrenaline and anger, it was no good. The man was perhaps as tall as Tolya, and while he probably wasn’t quite as heavy it didn’t matter – he was heavy enough to be able to pin Alina’s arms to her sides, and when she tried to kick out at Svetlana again he simply bodily lifted her and turned her to the side.</p>
<p>There was something utterly ridiculous about a man of such strength being clad in monk’s robes; with his neat hair and solemn dark eyes he looked every bit the monk stereotype if it wasn’t for the sheer size of him. Once again Alina found that crazed laughter bubble out of her, and Svetlana shot her a look of disgust.</p>
<p>“It’s worse than we thought,” she told him, and to Alina’s satisfaction there was a pinch of pain in her voice.</p>
<p>“She’s untied, Priestess.”</p>
<p>“Yes, Matvey, I noticed,” Svetlana snapped. “It just goes to show what the Heretic’s lot think of gestures of goodwill.”</p>
<p>“Did she harm you, Priestess?”</p>
<p>“Nothing I can’t handle,” Svetlana sniffed, acting for all intents and purposes as though she had just fended off a knife attack. “Thank goodness she was barefoot. Perhaps it’s your feet we should tie next, Sankta?”</p>
<p>Alina had ceased her struggling, the exhaustion too much to ignore. Matvey placed her back on the floor, but kept her firmly by the shoulders. She wanted to say something cutting, but nothing came to her. The disappointment was too much; she had been sure she would be able to get to the light, that she wasn’t so far away. The thought of being marched back to that little cell was almost too much.</p>
<p>“Yes, I think that’s what we shall do,” Svetlana said thoughtfully, as though there had been some kind of discussion. “And tomorrow we shall start addressing these problems. We shall start addressing them <em>properly</em>.” She turned to Matvey. “It seems like solitude and space to think have proven ineffective. Bring her back to her room and bind her feet the same way as you did her hands. Then gather the congregation. Tonight we pray, and tomorrow we begin.”</p>
<p>“As you wish, Priestess.”</p>
<p>Matvey gave a slight bow and nudged Alina forward. She tried to look back at Svetlana, wondering if Svetlana would watch her leave, if she would look disappointed or triumphant, but there was no seeing around Matvey. All too soon they had rounded a corner, and Alina could only watch helplessly as the door to her cell grew ever closer.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Aleksander</strong>
</p>
<p>It seemed that Aleksander was spending more and more time in the Palace jail these days. It was a place he had never spent a lot of time before, most of the prisoners there being far beyond his jurisdiction, but he supposed it was yet another thing that had fallen under his responsibility as of late. It was incredible to think that he could know what ruling would entail without quite appreciating it – he had, after all, basically been ruling Ravka for many years, but now that everything was official and he was able to take on overt duties, it seemed every little thing demanded his attention. Sometimes he could even understand why the Lantsovs had wanted to spend all their time relaxing and partying, though he still couldn’t understand how they had actually <em>done</em> it.</p>
<p>The ceilings in this part of the jail were low, and Aleksander had to bend his head slightly as he walked, ducking under doorways and listening to his footsteps getting swallowed up by the stone. It was perpetually damp down here, water dripping from unseen corners and sometimes running in small streams through the passages, some of them for enough years that there was a groove eroded out of the floor’s stone for the water to flow through. Lanterns lit the walls at regular intervals, flickering orange light fading to almost-dark before the next lantern picked up the slack, and Aleksander thought the whole place probably hadn’t changed since the castle had been built. He could at least appreciate the psychological effect that being dragged down here by unsympathetic guards must have had on the many thieves and traitors and would-be assassins that had once called these cells home.</p>
<p>Apparently immune to said effects was Aleksander’s latest charge. The young man had been adamant that he would speak to nobody but Aleksander, and apparently his resolve has so far been enough to allow him to say nothing to several of Aleksander’s best Heartrenders. Admittedly Aleksander had given them instruction to show some restraint at this point – it was always more effective, he thought, to allow a person to believe they knew what the worst of it would look like – but it was still impressive for an <em>otkazat’sya</em>. Most of the time their terror was as good as the pain; the idea that something so unnatural was being used against them, that their own body could betray them… usually it was enough, but Aleksander wasn’t surprised. They were, after all, dealing with a zealot.</p>
<p>He had been impatient to speak to the man. Of course he had been. There was a chance that the man wanted to give him useful information, perhaps not out of any regret or desire to see himself spared – surely he would know <em>that</em> was no longer an option – but rather because he had a message to deliver, or something to preach. It might seem innocent for the prisoner, but Aleksander had learned long ago that anything could be useful. Even the most seemingly innocent comment could lead him to look at the right thing, point him in the right direction. Before Alina had come to her senses it had been one such simple thing that had allowed him to hunt her across the True Sea and all the way to some distant town in Novyi Zem – just some hairclips, he was sure she’d thought, but enough. When a person had as much time and patience as Aleksander had, any clue could become the big one.</p>
<p>Thankfully he had had a lot to do to keep his mind off the pressing temptation to go and see the prisoner right away. Tolya and Tamar had given him plenty of clues to work with, and he had had to organise scouts to watch the roads and all available routes to any city, town, or farmhouse with a significant number of Alina’s worshippers. Aleksander doubted he would find something right away – anyone clever enough to successfully abduct a person as prolific as Alina would have the sense not to hide somewhere that obvious for a while, but he hoped that in time they might move to a more comfortable location. If that was the case, Aleksander’s scouts would already be in place, well-established in the towns and not drawing any suspicion; a moment of letting their guard down, and Aleksander would have them.</p>
<p>The preparations, as well as the rest of the things that Aleksander had to attend to on a normal day, had kept him occupied for almost three days, and now – around noon on the third day since Alina’s disappearance – he was finally about to make his prisoner’s acquaintance. He hadn’t thought must about what he would do when he saw the man, aside from reminding himself that he would be no good if Aleksander allowed himself to simply tear the man limb from limb the moment he saw him. There was no sense planning ahead when he didn’t know a person. With enemy soldiers it was more straightforward, because there were expectations. He would know a little about the prisoner already, from their rank and their age and the locality of the unit – such things told him a lot about motivations and loyalties. To a lot of people enemy soldiers were all the same; Aleksander knew finer details, like how useless it would be to try and recruit a spy from the Fjerdan border areas, where fighting was rife and raids were common and anti-Grisha sentiment was high, but it might be worth trying with a soldier from the remote north, where they had probably only joined the army to avoid freezing or starving to death and many of them had never met a Grisha before in their lives – indeed, some of them might still worship some of Fjerda’s old pagan gods, and have no time for Djel.</p>
<p>   <em>Always with the religion</em>, Aleksander thought warily, as he finally sensed movement up ahead. He finished rounding a slight bend, a heavy trickle of water cutting from one side of the passageway to the other, and found himself in a small alcove of cells. There were many like it in the jail, all of them equally unpleasant; Aleksander wondered why they still bothered calling this place a <em>jail</em>, as though a slightly more palatable word would somehow be able to change the fact that it was and had always been the grimmest of dungeons.</p>
<p>   The cells were barred, meaning the contents of all four of them were visible from where Aleksander stood. Torches burned on each of the dividing walls between cells, so the outside alcove was well lit, the fire dancing in the puddles of water on the ground. There were four small holes in the floor where a table had once been bolted, no doubt for the use of some more advanced interrogation techniques – or simply for the amusement of bored and sadistic guards – but one Lantsov or another had deemed that too barbaric and gotten rid of the tables and the torture instruments, no doubt to the relief of the table’s unwilling spectators. Needless to say, another Lantsov a few generations later had decided to reinstate the practise, albeit with the good manners of moving the tables and their tableware to cells of their own.</p>
<p>Thanks to the two young men in front of him, Aleksander had no need for such crude means.</p>
<p>“How is our mutual friend?” Aleksander asked them, as though he couldn’t see the prisoner quite clearly through the bars.</p>
<p>“Uncooperative,” Mikhail said, with a grin. “A shame.”</p>
<p>The prisoner had been huddled in the far corner of the cell, apparently sleeping or trying to. Upon hearing Aleksander’s voice he roused himself with surprising swiftness, and despite the exhaustion and the shadows of pain etched onto his face he was alert as he scrambled across the small cell, not even bothering to stand. Aleksander thought he had probably caused himself some pain, dragging himself along the rough stone in the way he had, but he didn’t seem to notice. He pulled himself up onto his knees, gripping the bar to keep himself balanced, and stared up at Aleksander with a look that was equal parts curiosity and equal parts disgust. He was perhaps in his early-to-mid-twenties, typically Ravkan in appearance with medium brown hair that was slightly too long, green-brown eyes, and a couple of days’ worth of stubble on his face. Aleksander let his own eyes pass over the prisoner briefly, keeping a pointedly bored expression on his face, and then turned back to the two Heartrenders.</p>
<p>“Somehow I thought he might be. Has he been preaching much?”</p>
<p>“Whenever he had the ability to speak,” Peter said.</p>
<p>“Soon got tired of that,” Mikhail added, rolling his eyes.</p>
<p>“Heretic!” said the prisoner. “Scourge! Unnatural abomination of—”</p>
<p>“Yes, yes,” Aleksander said, kicking the bars of the cell hard. The prisoner flinched back, briefly silenced. “Nothing I haven’t heard before. I am assuming,” he added to Peter and Mikhail, “that his withholding of useful information has been complete?”</p>
<p>“Don’t even know his name,” Mikhail said, with a frown of annoyance. “He’s pretty stubborn, I’ll give him that.”</p>
<p>“His type always are,” Aleksander said, looking back at the prisoner. He met his gaze and caught it, keeping his own expression blank, and while the prisoner refused to look away Aleksander could see when the uncertainty began to cloud his eyes; when the realisation of just how much danger he was in began to hit him. “I doubt you’re going to tell me anything useful, are you?”</p>
<p>“We were instructed to explain, if caught,” the prisoner replied. Despite the uncertainty on his face Aleksander could hear he still had control of himself; his voice was impressively steady for a man in his position. “We were instructed to explain to <em>you</em>, directly.”</p>
<p>“Hm,” Aleksander said, looking down at him. “I suppose you had better get explaining, then.”</p>
<p>“<em>Only</em> you,” the prisoner said pointedly.</p>
<p>Aleksander rolled his eyes. “Mikhail. Peter. Go and find something else to do.”</p>
<p>He heard a murmur of disappointment, but the Heartrenders peeled themselves away from where they had been leaning against the wall and shuffled off. Within moments the stone had swallowed their footsteps, but Aleksander could feel them moving away for some time afterwards.</p>
<p>The prisoner was back against the bars again, gripping them for support. He looked remarkably unharmed, the only noticeable change being the thin layer of grime that covered him, but the kinds of things that Mikhail and Peter could do didn’t have to leave a mark – or at least not a permanent one. Considering Aleksander knew the two Heartrenders didn’t hold back in such circumstances, he was mildly impressed to see the prisoner so alert and so sane – or at least as sane as someone like him could be.</p>
<p>“What’s such a big secret?” Aleksander asked, almost conversationally.</p>
<p>“Not a secret, as such,” the prisoner replied. “I’m sure you’ll repeat what I say to those who need to hear it. I just don’t want to be interrupted. A lot of people would scoff, but you strike us as the kind of person to never underestimate anything.”</p>
<p>“You don’t get far by underestimating,” Aleksander agreed. “You seem to have an ounce of intelligence. I have to wonder why you’ve done something so suicidal.”</p>
<p>The prisoner’s eyes seemed to briefly shine brighter in the flickering light. “It would be an honour to die for my cause.”</p>
<p>“Well, you might just get the opportunity,” Aleksander said, fighting the urge to roll his eyes again. “Do you have a name, or would you prefer to die without one?”</p>
<p>“Vasya,” the prisoner said, and Aleksander had to laugh.</p>
<p>“Such a closely guarded secret given up so easily? I have to wonder why you put yourself through the hassle.”</p>
<p>Vasya frowned. “There is a belief in my village that if you give a Heartrender your name, they can control you.”</p>
<p>“Fairies, Vasya,” Aleksander said, amused. “You’re thinking of fairies. Heartrenders can control you name or not, provided they’re good enough.”</p>
<p>“Well,” Vasya said. “You can never be too careful.”</p>
<p>“I’m surprised it matters to you at this point,” Aleksander pointed out. “I’m still waiting to hear your explanation, by the way. I doubt I’ll find it satisfactory, but you’re welcome to try.”</p>
<p>Vasya thought for several minutes, and Aleksander was content to let him. No doubt the man wouldn’t let himself be rushed, and Aleksander wasn’t the kind of person to choose pointless battles. He found himself impressed by Vasya’s stubbornness, his determination – even if it meant a headache for Aleksander, he could always respect the qualities in other people. It took a lot to go through hell for something as intangible as a belief. It was why he respected the Fjerdans a little more than the Shu in that respect. The Shu were scientifically minded, logical; it was as straightforward to them as seeing Grisha as another species that they needed to work out. There was no greater reason – just the same reason they did everything. For advancement, for information, for weapons development. There was something particularly undignified about dying on a lab table.</p>
<p>The Fjerdans were different. There were exceptions, of course, but a vast majority of the Fjerdan soldiers Aleksander had come across had that burning kind of belief, the sort that could make them stare in the face of terror and barely flinch. Even if they did flinch, they held their ground, and in some respects that was even more impressive. They died for a belief bigger than them; they died holy, they died righteous. In Aleksander’s opinion, it was certainly a better death that dying in what was essentially a work trip to gather field samples.</p>
<p><em>It’s the obsession you like,</em> he thought to himself. <em>Perhaps you really did spend too much time in the north as a boy.</em></p>
<p>“It wasn’t a decision we came to easily,” Vasya finally said. Aleksander watched him closely as he spoke; he was looking in Aleksander’s direction but not <em>at</em> him, his voice slightly far away. “It’s no small decision, to tamper in the life of a Saint. But we’ve been watching what was happening, and we’ve heard the rumours. We have our ways of getting information. What we heard was… not encouraging. Of course it confirmed what we already knew, but there’s something about hearing the hard facts of the matter that make you realise you have to do something. We tried to rally as much support as we could, but it seems that everyone else is deluded. I think – and my brothers and sisters agree – that to blindly follow anyone is a terrible thing. Does it matter if they’re a Saint? I don’t think it does. To blindly follow anyone, divine or not, is to enable them. It’s to make them get used to power. Power corrupts all, even Saints.”</p>
<p>Vasya’s eyes focused briefly, passing over Aleksander with an odd look that Aleksander couldn’t quite place. <em>Pity</em> was the word that first came to mind, but he didn’t want to make time for that.</p>
<p>“It was when the rumours were confirmed,” Vasya said firmly, as though coming to the decision all over again. “At first we weren’t sure; there were so many different stories flying around that it was impossible to tell. The King escaped and gradually we realised that it had all been a lie; that he had been held against his will, that he had nothing to do with what happened. From there the rest of the information trickled out. Finally we couldn’t deny the truth of it anymore – impossible though it seemed, we accepted who you are. <em>What</em> you are.” He frowned. “I see now, what we missed. There must have been a reason that we should be sent a Saint now, after so many centuries of nothing. There was some argument about it – people couldn’t believe that if you really <em>were</em> the Black Heretic, why you would have waited so long to make your move. But it’s obvious, isn’t it? You needed her power, and you have all the time in the world to wait. Four hundred years have passed since the Fold was created, and none of us know how old you were when you did it. What’s four hundred years to something like you?”</p>
<p>Aleksander gave a tight smile, but said nothing. It was strange, to look at the man before him and see disgust as he spoke about such things – <em>disgust</em>, at the thought of all that time, when had this man been slightly smarter about his decision he might have deemed eighty years as a long life. Eighty years was a blink. Aleksander didn’t know how the man didn’t collapse in the face of its futility.</p>
<p>“You needed her,” Vasya said simply. “Whatever it is you’re trying to do, you needed her. We thought in the beginning that she might see you for what you were, but she <em>aligned</em> herself with you. She knows what you are, what you did, and she still helps you. Either she’s young and foolish, or you’re deliberately leading her astray – deceiving her, forcing her. I don’t know what you’re capable of. We knew it was our responsibility – our <em>obligation</em> – to save her. We have to keep her holy.”</p>
<p>“Admirable,” Aleksander said. “I can tell you really believe this nonsense.”</p>
<p>“You know it’s true,” Vasya said. “Whatever it is you’re doing, you know it’s true.”</p>
<p>“The rules are different for us,” Aleksander said. “You see life as a blink. We measure time in generations. She may be young, but one day she will be as old as I am. What are the lives of a few thousand now, when in a few centuries everything will be in order?”</p>
<p>“Your kind of order is not the kind that the world should support.”</p>
<p>“And yet it can,” Aleksander said patiently. “And yet it <em>will</em>. There are so many things that you don’t understand – that your brothers and sisters don’t understand. I don’t blame you. You can’t possibly understand what you’ve never experienced. None of you are Grisha, I can tell that now. You’ve never known what it’s like to be persecuted.” He smiled. “Do you know the only people Grisha can trust?”</p>
<p>Vasya looked at him, and then shook his head. Aleksander counted them off on his fingers.</p>
<p>“The Suli. The Zemeni. The various mountain tribes of Shu Han. And the native Kaelish; the ones in the south who aren’t descended from Fjerdan settlers. Do you know what all these people have in common, Vasya?”</p>
<p>Vasya shook his head again.</p>
<p>“All of them have been oppressed,” Aleksander answered. “All of them have been persecuted simply for who they are. They have had their land confiscated or stolen, they have been killed, they have been enslaved, they have been exiled. They have been driven out of places they called home, they have been treated like lesser beings. They have been colonised and taken advantage of, they have had their culture oppressed while their talents have been exploited. All of them know what it’s like to be treated as though they were nothing, as though they were <em>dirt</em>, simply because of the race or culture they were born to. These are the people who never turn away Grisha. These are the people who don’t pretend to understand what it’s like for us.”</p>
<p>Vasya frowned, chewing at his lip.</p>
<p>“You might see what I do as evil,” Aleksander said. “I can understand why. In your short life you will only see the worst of it. But I have had a longer life, and I will have an even longer one yet. I remember how it <em>used</em> to be. Yes, you’re well-versed in my crimes, aren’t you? But I doubt any of you have paid attention to the good I’ve done. Who gave Grisha a safe place to come to, where they could be themselves without persecution? Who protects this country from enemies at every border? Who is the reason we haven’t been overrun by Fjerda or Shu Han, divided up between them, ripped of our land and culture? It wasn’t the Lantsov Kings, boy. Whatever you have, whatever little they left you with to enjoy, it was because of me that you had it. Can you blame me for wanting to give more? That is all I’m trying to do.”</p>
<p>“It isn’t the way,” Vasya said quietly.</p>
<p>“You would die for your cause, Vasya,” Aleksander said. “I’m sure that under the right circumstances, you would kill for it, too. If you had the power and the means, I doubt we would be so different.”</p>
<p>“You destroyed the country you claim to protect!” Vasya burst out. “You ripped a hole in it because of your arrogance; because you couldn’t be content with what you had! Because you always wanted <em>more</em>! What will be enough, Heretic? What will be enough for you?”</p>
<p>“It will be enough when I can ensure that no Fjerdan or Shu will ever be a problem again,” Aleksander said calmly. “When I can ensure that Grisha can leave Ravka’s borders and remain safe. When there might come a day where they don’t have to flee in such numbers. It will be enough when the wars are over and I can finally turn my attention to fixing this country; when there will be money spare to address any of the countless issues that make up the Lantsov legacy. All I want is to be left alone, Vasya. Is that a crime?”</p>
<p>“You say that now,” Vasya said, “but you’re as power-hungry as they come. When you have that, you’ll want more. You’ll want Fjerda. You’ll want Shu Han. You’ll take them over and drive them out just as you said they would do here, and you’ll feel righteous in doing so.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps,” Aleksander said, smiling. “You’re probably right. It is a concern, now. Not so long ago it wasn’t.”</p>
<p>Vasya watched him warily.</p>
<p>“You talk of Alina’s holiness and my heresy,” Aleksander said. “Good and evil, light and dark. A balance. But you see them as opposing forces. That is not the case. They are meant to work <em>together</em>. If you think for one moment that you have made anyone any safer by taking her from me, you will be sorely mistaken. I <em>am</em> a monster, Vasya. I make no attempt to hide that from myself or from others. But with her by my side I feel that my nature is something worth fighting.”</p>
<p>Vasya didn’t say anything. He looked as though he had briefly nothing to say. Aleksander could see the annoyance in his eyes; the resistance, the urge to object. Finally he shook his head.</p>
<p>“We can’t allow it,” he said. “To be so close to your corruption—”</p>
<p>“Do you not trust your Saint to look after herself?” Aleksander asked, raising an eyebrow. “How much faith do you have in her holiness if you believe that a lowly heretic like me could take it from her?”</p>
<p>That brought the anger back to Vasya’s face, twisting his features and making him look suddenly older, less human in the unpredictable lighting.</p>
<p>“No,” he said firmly. “I know the kind of evil you talk. They said you would do this. They said you would get in my head, try and make me doubt myself – doubt my Saint. I won’t let you. You won’t find anything to corrupt here, Heretic.”</p>
<p>“Just as well I wasn’t trying to corrupt you, then,” Aleksander said, smiling. “Do you remember everything I told you, Vasya?”</p>
<p>“Yes. I could hardly forget such evil.”</p>
<p>“Do you think you could repeat it?”</p>
<p>“Why would I want to?”</p>
<p>“To give your brothers and sisters a chance to see sense.”</p>
<p>“I would never try to undermine their faith.”</p>
<p>“I will find them, Vasya,” Aleksander said, taking a half-step closer to the bars. Vasya flinched. “I am not as evil as you like to think I am. I will give them a chance, if they’re wise enough to take it. But if not I will find them, and I will kill each and every one of them – man, woman, and child – until I get my answers. Anyone with even the slightest link to one of these cults will be suspect. I have all the time and patience in the world. I will find your people, and then they will see what evil looks like. Will you not give them a chance to escape that fate?”</p>
<p>“I won’t,” Vasya said, his voice a hoarse whisper.</p>
<p>“Perhaps I shall leave you to think about it,” Aleksander said.</p>
<p>The lanterns seemed to dim, as though they were burning low. Vasya started, his eyes looking wildly around before settling on the nearest lamp, watching as it seemed to blink out. Only when the shadows passed between the bars of the cell and pooled around his knees, seeming as solid as ink, did he realise what was going on.</p>
<p>“No,” he said quietly. He was shaking, his voice finally beginning to waver. “I won’t do it.”</p>
<p>Aleksander left just enough light to see by. Not much – only enough that Vasya’s eyes would be able to adjust and make out vague shapes, outlines. Now the shadows had deepened Aleksander could feel how rigidly Vasya held himself, how his trembling was growing worse. He could hear the man muttering rapidly under his breath; he was praying.</p>
<p>“Spend some time with what your brothers and sisters will face,” Aleksander said evenly, feeling the shadows begin to part around new figures, the tug on that intangible place between flesh and soul that meant the <em>nichevo’ya</em> were present, drawing from him, sharing his life. It had once felt so strange, he thought. It no longer did. “See if you still feel the same way when we next meet.”</p>
<p>Vasya would only be able to make out vague shapes – a claw here, a wing there – but the sound was enough to have his breath coming to him in wheezes. The <em>nichevo’ya</em> skittered along the walls and ceiling, their sharp claws loud against the rough stone; they clicked excitedly to one another, sensing that they were allowed to play.</p>
<p>“Until next time, Vasya,” Aleksander said, and turned for the passageway.</p>
<p>Vasya called after him, but the stone quickly ate up the words.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Alina</strong>
</p>
<p>Despite the fact she knew it was useless, Alina had felt obligated to try and untie her feet the second Matvey had gone. She was out of luck –the rope was once again coated in that strange, irritating substance, though this time they hadn’t applied it after the ropes had already been bound. Now it seemed the ropes had been coated in it beforehand, and Alina had no idea how Matvey had managed to pull the ropes so tight when they were so slick and covered in something that made Alina’s hands burn seconds after touching them. She grit her teeth and tried to ignore the pain, forcing her stiff fingers to obey her, but the rope wouldn’t budge. The knots were at strange angles and pulled too tightly; Alina’s fingers simply slid away, and even if she did managed to dig a nail underneath a part of the knot, her nails were more likely to break before she pulled the rope loose. Eventually she gave up, leaning back against the wall with an irritated huff, already feeling her hands begin to burn painfully.</p>
<p><em>Great,</em> she thought. <em>My hands are numb enough to be useless when I need them, but they have plenty of feeling left to hurt. Wonderful.</em></p>
<p>Her feet burned, too, but they were losing feeling quickly and Alina supposed that in a short while, it wouldn’t be her problem. She tried to move them again, to see if it was worth even attempting to stand, but there was no give at all. Unless she wanted to bunny-hop out of this place, she wasn’t going anywhere. She could probably make decent progress until she came to a slight step, and then she would be screwed; she smiled, letting out a soft snort, and leaned her head back against the wall.</p>
<p>There had been one advantage to her failed escape attempt. Svetlana had chased after her without remembering to take the cup of water with her, and Matvey either hadn’t noticed or didn’t think he should bring it with him. It had taken all of Alina’s self-control to make herself sip the water slowly, both to make it last the night and also because she knew that drinking it too quickly would make her sick; she would make sure it was gone by the time anyone might come into her room, but for now she wanted the reassurance that it was there. Most of the glass remained, but even the few sips she had allowed herself so far had breathed new life into her. She could feel her mind shaking off its sluggishness, her senses sharpening, and even though she knew she shouldn’t, she nursed a hope that once she was fully aware again, the drugs and the dehydration out of her system, she might be able to try her power again and this time sense the light.</p>
<p>The only disadvantage to the water was the fact she felt more awake now. Between the current situation and the fact that she was basically sleeping on a bare stone floor, she thought it was unlikely that she would get to sleep any time soon. The night stretched on endlessly, and she suddenly felt a deep loneliness settle over her, somehow worse than the confusion or the helplessness had been. It wasn’t a stranger to her, but it had been a while since she had felt it like this – not since she had been younger, in the orphanage. It had happened often then, when she had woken for no reason in the middle of the night, and the whole house had still be asleep. It had felt as though she were the only person in the world, and for a moment she wondered why it hadn’t been like this for so long – why she suddenly felt that same ache.</p>
<p>It hit her, then, that this was the first night she had spent alone in some time. She had grown used to the presence of someone else, of falling asleep with Aleksander reading through papers next to her, or on some rare occasions already dozing off, looking so impossibly young with his hair sticking every which way on the pillow. Even if Alina had awoken to find he had been called away to do something, she would always be able to find him. If she wanted to she could get up and wander after him, and somehow he never looked any less pleased to see her; as though every time she had walked into the room it was as though she were returning from a long journey. The night, she realised, had become <em>their</em> time. The Palace would be mostly asleep, they would have the rooms to themselves; it was dark and warm and silent and just the two of them. The nights seemed alien without him.</p>
<p>She wondered if he felt the same way, and knew he must. She knew he was probably feeling it <em>worse</em> than her – Aleksander, who was so terrified of being left alone. Alina found herself missing him with a force that took her by surprise; she was sure she would cry, sure she would crumple under the weight of it.</p>
<p>Her eyes burned and she knew she was going to start crying, she was probably going to spend the rest of the night that way, and she probably would have done had she not been shocked out of it by a voice, quiet and familiar.</p>
<p>“Alina.”</p>
<p>She sat up straight, looking around the deep shadows of the room. “Sasha?”</p>
<p>“<em>Saints</em>,” Aleksander muttered, and she saw him then, saw him as he stepped quickly from the deepest shadows in the corner, as real and as solid as she had ever seen him.</p>
<p>“I think I’ve had enough of those,” Alina joked weakly, as he knelt in front of her, his eyebrows furrowed as he took her in.</p>
<p>“I was trying to reach you,” he said quietly, reaching out and gently touching at the scab forming on her lip. She saw his eyes flash with something dark and angry; they quickly cleared as he met her gaze. “I couldn’t get through. I suppose you were unconscious.”</p>
<p>“For a while,” she said, reaching up and curling her fingers around his wrist. It was strange, to touch him and feel no difference in her power – a reminder that although he looked solid, his physical body was miles away. “I was sick, I suppose. They didn’t give me anything to drink.”</p>
<p>“Saints,” Aleksander said again. “You’re crying.”</p>
<p>“Almost,” Alina said, with a weak laugh. “I missed you. I <em>miss</em> you.”</p>
<p>“It won’t be long,” Aleksander said firmly. “I have people looking. I’m doing everything I can. Do you know anything about where you are? I’m not seeing anything helpful.”</p>
<p>Alina shook her head. “This is all I’ve really seen. The passage outside looks mostly the same. I imagine I’m underground, but it feels too deep to be a cellar. I can’t—I can’t feel any light, when I try to summon. I must be deep down.”</p>
<p>“Or well insulated from any cracks,” Aleksander said thoughtfully.</p>
<p>It was all so achingly familiar, watching him think. Alina wished more than ever that they were hidden away in some corner of the library or in one of the many Palace sitting-rooms, warm and safe and together.</p>
<p>“Hey,” Aleksander said softly, and Alina realised she was crying again. “It’ll be fine. Tell me everything you remember, everything you’ve seen.”</p>
<p>It felt almost like it had when she had first started reporting to him – though she had been more unsure then, still nervous about the steps she was taking. There were none of the nerves now, and Alina found comfort in the retelling of the facts. Aleksander had trained her well in the art of debriefing; they sat leaning against the wall, Alina with her head resting on his shoulder, he with his arm tightly around her, his other hand threading through her hair. She started from the first thing she remembered and took him right up to the present moment, giving names and descriptions and repeating the speech as best as she could remember it. There wasn’t a whole lot to go on in terms of location, but at least Aleksander had names, appearances – and whatever else he might be able to use as a clue. Alina had seen him work things out from less.</p>
<p>She kept her voice low, a soft whisper that was interrupted only once or twice by clarifying questions, also whispered. For some reason she thought suddenly of Mal, of how the two of them had done the same thing in the dead of night sometimes, sneaking to some cupboard or empty classroom in the house where they might not be found, speaking in murmurs and tensing at every sound, the tension bleeding away with giggles when nobody discovered them. She forced the thoughts away. There was only so much room for pain right now; she didn’t know why her mind was insisting on bringing all of these old feelings up.</p>
<p>“It doesn’t seem like much,” Aleksander agreed, when she finally finished speaking. “But it’s better than nothing. It’s information I can cross-compare. Anything you see might be a clue. Statistically you’re probably under a chapel. It doesn’t narrow it down, though – chapels all over Ravka have extensive networks beneath them.”</p>
<p>“This group, they had a fight with the rest of my followers,” Alina said. “Svetlana was talking about a schism, about how most people wanted to trust me but they didn’t – they thought I was being led astray, or whatever. So maybe if I am under a chapel, it would be a minor one? One that could have been taken over easily, or perhaps one that was disused and abandoned.”</p>
<p>Aleksander thought for a moment, and then hummed in approval. “That <em>is</em> a good point. You’re getting good at this, Alina.”</p>
<p>“I’ve been learning from the best,” Alina said, feeling him laugh.</p>
<p>“Perhaps you can put some more of that heretical mind of yours to use,” he said, and Alina laughed as well. “If you could find a way to get to the surface, see any of the church itself… Ravka loves its churches. Even a glimpse of a stained-glass window could give me a clue. Every peasant village has its own Saint, and every chapel commissioned its own art and windows. Thanks to the Apparat there are books aplenty about them.”</p>
<p>“I doubt they’d let me near the surface. They wouldn’t want to risk me using my power.”</p>
<p>“Not yet,” Aleksander said.</p>
<p>“What do you mean?”</p>
<p>She looked up at him to find he had anticipated it. She met his eyes immediately, and in the low light they seemed to glint at her, like little shards of ice. There was something grim about them, something that told her she probably wouldn’t like what he was about to say, but it wouldn’t be the first time such a thing had happened and it had always been manageable before. Still, she had had him by her side then. This situation was different – she was on her own.</p>
<p>“You have to earn their trust,” he told her. “You can’t go along with them right away, of course. Nobody would believe that. Hold out for a while, and let yourself be persuaded. If I don’t find you before then, you might have a chance. If they think you’re their innocent, tame little Saint, they might want to show you off a little more. They might want to see what you can do.”</p>
<p>“I have no idea how they’re going to try and… <em>persuade</em> me,” Alina said. “From what I can tell it won’t be pleasant. If this is how I’m being treated on a fairly casual basis – they’re going on about doing what’s necessary and feeling bad for it but it has to be done and all of that. I’m worried they’re going to try and purify me by burning me at the stake or something.”</p>
<p>She had said it as a weak joke; she wasn’t comforted by the flash of alarm on Aleksander’s face.</p>
<p>“Come on,” she said, swallowing. “They’re not Fjerdans.”</p>
<p>“Saints haven’t historically met a very nice end,” Aleksander said. “If they have some notion that you’ll rise from the dead or something…”</p>
<p>“Svetlana did say that she believed most of the Saints were still alive,” Alina said. “That ordinary means couldn’t kill them.” She sat up a little, looking at him. “It would take a lot to kill me. I have two amplifiers. You said nothing short of turning my own power against myself would do it.”</p>
<p>“That doesn’t mean I want them to try,” Aleksander said fiercely. “That doesn’t mean I want them to burn you alive or impale you on whatever’s handy – all of those other ways they’ve tried to do away with Saints in the past. I’m hoping they’ll have more sense than that, but you can never tell with these people.” He shook his head. “I suppose I’ll have Vasya tailed.”</p>
<p>He had said the last words more to himself than anything else; Alina was about to question him when they heard a noise from beyond the door, and of course by that point it was too late for Alina to pretend she was asleep. The sound was so muffled that she only heard people a step before they entered the room; Aleksander quickly moved to the side, allowing her to sit in a pose more natural for somebody who was supposed to be alone, but Alina didn’t even have the chance to lie down before the door was pushed open and a lantern was held up, the light impossibly bright compared to the darkness Alina had grown used to.</p>
<p>The room was small and so the lantern perfectly illuminated Aleksander, but of course Svetlana didn’t see him. She stepped into the room, barely three feet from him, and yet her gaze didn’t even flicker in that direction. Alina was careful to make sure her own eyes didn’t, either.</p>
<p>“Who are you talking to, Sankta?” she asked, her eyes narrowing as she looked quickly around the room.</p>
<p>“Myself,” Alina said, as though it were obvious. “Who else?”</p>
<p>“It sounded like a strange conversation to have by yourself. Almost like you were waiting for an answer.”</p>
<p>“I’ve always spoken to myself,” Alina said. “Ever since I was a child. I’m bored. I can’t sleep.”</p>
<p>“Good. Long periods of wakefulness are good for enlightenment. If I were being charitable I might say you were off to a good start.”</p>
<p>Alina supposed it was probably too soon to try and start pretending she was coming around, so instead of trying to pacify the situation she let some of her annoyance show.</p>
<p>“Unless you’d like to peer into the corners and see if you can find the Darkling lurking, I think you might have to just accept that there’s nothing more to say here,” she said.</p>
<p>Beside her, she saw Aleksander’s shoulders shake lightly, his head dipped as he laughed. Alina fought to keep her own face straight.</p>
<p>“Insolence,” Svetlana said, her lip curling. “Always the mark of a heretic.”</p>
<p>“Oh, please,” Aleksander murmured.</p>
<p>“You can see nobody is here,” Alina said. “What do you think I could be doing?”</p>
<p>“After your little display earlier, one can never be too careful,” Svetlana said. She held the lamp a little higher, looking around the room once more, but of course she saw nothing. “If you’re going to insist upon being awake, try to do so in silence. I think some reflection would be good for you.”</p>
<p>It looked as though she would be happy to leave the conversation at that, but Alina suddenly found she didn’t want her to go. It wasn’t for want of any company – Aleksander was, of course, still there – but rather the fact that she saw an opportunity that she hadn’t noticed before. Maybe if she had been as tactically minded as Aleksander she would have spotted it right away, steered the conversation around to it, but she supposed it was better late than never. Any information she could get out of Svetlana would be useful, especially with Aleksander present to hear it all first hand. She would be able to pass information along to him just like she had done before, but she knew that no matter how detailed she was, she would never be able to give Aleksander all the information he needed to make those incredibly accurate conclusions of his. He could read more in a single facial expression than Alina could work out from a thousand words.</p>
<p>“How did you hear me?” Alina asked quickly, before Svetlana could commit to leaving. “The walls here are so thick. I never hear anything until it’s almost right outside my door. How could you have possibly heard me?”</p>
<p>Aleksander seemed to have worked out that Alina was trying to keep Svetlana talking; he stepped closer, kneeling down beside Alina and reaching out to put his hand over hers. Alina felt a strange tug in the back of her head as the room sharpened around Aleksander, as he shared what she could see; she kept it off her face, forcing herself to remain still even though all she wanted to do was lean into him.</p>
<p>She could feel how hard Aleksander was concentrating. She wondered how Svetlana couldn’t feel his eyes on her – if she felt anything strange at all, she hid it well.</p>
<p>“I was coming to check on you anyway,” Svetlana said. “I thought it would be worth checking, after earlier. Apparently I was somewhat correct in assuming you would be up to something.”</p>
<p>“There wasn’t enough time for you to hear me as you came past,” Alina protested. “It was like you knew before you got here. I don’t mean to be argumentative,” she quickly added, adopting her best apologetic tone, “but if somebody is keeping an eye on me I’d like to know. I think I have the right to know if I’m not really as alone as I think I am.”</p>
<p>“Nobody is spying on you, Sankta,” Svetlana said. “I merely have some light-footed brothers and sisters. You don’t presume everybody sleeps during the night, do you? That would be a serious safety concern.”</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t have thought you’d bring me to a place with safety risks,” Alina said, frowning as though she were genuinely worried. “We are safe here, aren’t we? You have to remember there are a lot of people out there who are only interested in wearing part of me as a relic.”</p>
<p>Svetlana gave a thin smile. “That would certainly not be allowed, Sankta. You seem to be working yourself up over nothing. Perhaps you’re more tired than you think.”</p>
<p>“Maybe,” Alina said, with a shrug. “I don’t think so, though. There was a reason I didn’t leave the Palace often. It’s not that I was scared of being hurt, because my power would protect me. It was just that I didn’t want it to come to that. It’s never… easy, even if it’s the only thing that can be done.”</p>
<p>Svetlana’s face softened slightly; Alina felt a sudden thrill when she realised that she had guided Svetlana’s thoughts to the incident on the Fold, exactly where she wanted her. It was too early for Alina to pretend she had seen Svetlana’s kind of sense, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t try to win some trust through sympathy.</p>
<p>“You won’t have to do anything like that again, Sankta,” Svetlana said, genuinely reassuring. “And to think you see yourself on the same level as the Heretic. You’re too pure of heart.”</p>
<p>Alina managed a weak smile. “I just worry…” she said quietly. “Well, I suppose I have to trust you know what you’re doing.”</p>
<p>“Nobody will find you,” Svetlana said firmly. “No doubt the Heretic will have people scouring the country for you already. If we can be confident he won’t find you, you don’t have to worry about a bunch of savages hunting you for fingerbones. We are not in a place anybody would look twice at.”</p>
<p>“Is that why we’re underground?” Alina chanced. Svetlana’s face flickered with suspicion, and Alina pulled at the sleeve of her kefta, picking at some of the dirt that had embedded itself in the fabric at some point on the journey. “I don’t mean anything by it. I just… I can’t summon. I suppose I was wondering if that was intentional, or if we’re here because of practicality.”</p>
<p>“A little of both, Sankta,” Svetlana said, a degree cooler than before. “You know what they say about absence and the heart.”</p>
<p> “Makes it grow fonder,” Aleksander murmured.</p>
<p><em>She doesn’t know</em>, Alina thought, as Svetlana scanned the room again and turned for the door. <em>Nobody knows about this. They couldn’t even imagine</em>.</p>
<p>It hit her, what an advantage she had. For all Svetlana talked about Alina’s mistaken loyalty to the Heretic, she could never imagine <em>this</em>; never imagine that he could be right there with them whenever he wished. Alina dared to feel a flicker of hope. Surely it wouldn’t take Aleksander long to find out where she was? Surely Alina could ensure that Svetlana kept feeding him clues?</p>
<p>“Remember,” Svetlana said, pausing by the door. “If you can’t sleep, reflect in silence. You will have a busy day tomorrow.”</p>
<p>There was an underlying threat in the words that neither Alina nor Aleksander missed. Alina tensed slightly; beside her she could feel Aleksander staring after Svetlana intently, as though hoping that his anger would somehow register in her mind, perhaps put her off whatever she was thinking. The two of them remained silent for some time, Alina desperately straining to hear if anyone remained in the hallway, but it was no good – nothing could be heard past the stone, and finally she couldn’t take the silence anymore.</p>
<p>“She’s a real delight,” she said quietly, and Aleksander let out a low laugh.</p>
<p>“Well, we’re in some luck. Now that I’ve seen her, I’m sure I recognise her.”</p>
<p>Alina looked at him. “You’ve seen her before?”</p>
<p>“Not seen her,” Aleksander said, shaking his head. “Heard of her. I have my own sources into this kind of thing. There are a few people I know, with their own congregations. Some of them are not very friendly with Svetlana. I did wonder what she was calling herself these days.”</p>
<p>“I didn’t think that was her real name,” Alina said, and perhaps it was petty of her, but she felt a smug sense of satisfaction over it. “The name means <em>light</em>. I thought it was a little too perfect.”</p>
<p>“She often takes grand Ravkan names,” Aleksander said, amused. “She’s rather above her station, for someone barely more than a peasant girl. She inherited her father’s looks. Her mother is Kaelish.” He laughed quietly. “As far as I know, the name she was born with is Bronagh. It’s a Kaelish name.” He winked. “It means <em>darkness</em> or <em>sorrow</em>.”</p>
<p>Alina stifled a laugh. “Her parents thought highly of her.”</p>
<p>“I’m sure there’s something to be said about a name revealing a person’s true nature,” Aleksander said.</p>
<p>“So what about <em>you</em>?” Alina teased. “What does <em>Aleksander</em> mean?”</p>
<p>Aleksander paused, before he laughed and shook his head. “<em>Defender</em>.”</p>
<p>Alina moved her hand, finally tangling their fingers together. “You don’t have to look so annoyed with yourself. This isn’t your fault.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps not entirely,” Aleksander said, “but still.” He sighed. “What were you doing out there?”</p>
<p>“I was just wandering,” Alina said, catching her bottom lip between her teeth and immediately letting go as the cut stung. “I know it was stupid.”</p>
<p>“It was <em>beyond</em> stupid,” Aleksander said shortly, before he caught himself and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll work it out later.”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Alina said quietly. “I didn’t think… so close to the Palace…”</p>
<p>“No,” Aleksander said. “You didn’t think. That’s the issue.”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Alina said again, helpless.</p>
<p>“It’s fine. It’s—there’s no sense worrying about it right now,” Aleksander said. “I’m more worried about what your useless guards were doing.”</p>
<p>Alina tensed, a flicker of alarm running through her. “Did you—?”</p>
<p>“I haven’t punished them,” Aleksander said. “<em>Yet</em>. They asked to be allowed to assist in searching for you first. Considering their links to various religious movements, I deemed it a request worth allowing. That doesn’t mean they’re safe later.”</p>
<p>“I shouldn’t have—”</p>
<p>“We’ll worry about it when you’re safe,” Aleksander said. “For now, keep getting as much information as you can. By whatever means. If you can keep playing her like you did just now,” he added, a hint of pride slipping into his voice, “I’m sure you’ll have no issue.”</p>
<p>Alina smiled. “You didn’t tell me it was so fun.”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“Playing everyone like a balalaika.”</p>
<p>Aleksander snorted. “You’re a delightful pupil, Alina.”</p>
<p>“What about you?” Alina asked. “What’s your next step?”</p>
<p>“I shall have to pay a visit to one of Svetlana and I’s mutual acquaintances,” he replied, and Alina didn’t miss the look on his face.</p>
<p>“Not looking forward to it?”</p>
<p>“He’s an acquired taste,” Aleksander said, laughing softly. “For now, I think you should try to sleep. Svetlana seemed quite happy thinking about you staying awake. Nothing that pleases your enemies should be something you do unless necessary.”</p>
<p>“I don’t want to miss you,” Alina said quietly.</p>
<p>“I’m not going anywhere,” Aleksander said, pulling her against him. Finally she let herself slump to the side, her head against his shoulder, his arm tightly around her. “Not until I have to. I might be gone when you wake up, but I’ll stay here until you fall asleep.”</p>
<p>Had she a choice in the matter, she would have stayed awake for as long as possible, not wishing to waste a moment with him. She didn’t have that choice, however – as she had suspected it was a lot easier to fall asleep with Aleksander there, and if she had replied to what he had said, she fell asleep so quickly she didn’t remember it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aleksander went alone.</p>
<p>It wasn’t something he ordinarily did, considering that he had to worry about numerous other threats as well as the threat he was currently dealing with – these people might appear to be targeting Alina specifically, after all, but that didn’t mean that was the truth of the matter and it also didn’t mean that all of Aleksander’s other enemies would decide to have some time off and let him deal with this first. No, it was probably a risk to travel alone, but sometimes Aleksander had to consider what would be the most effective appearance to present to a situation. Showing up looking as though he didn’t trust these people completely would be a bad idea, even if he didn’t.</p>
<p>Besides, it wasn’t as though he was ever completely alone these days. The <em>nichevo’ya</em> scouted ahead for him, weaving above and between the trees with far more efficiency than any of Aleksander’s foot soldiers could hope for. They even had an advantage over the Heartrenders when it came to distance – Heartrenders might be able to sense somebody standing in the immediate vicinity of a trail, but the <em>nichevo’ya</em> could range for a couple of miles, feeding information back to Aleksander all the while and allowing him to neutralise any threat with a mere thought.</p>
<p>Aleksander’s horse wasn’t too happy with the new arrangements, but at least he consented to allowing the <em>nichevo’ya</em> around him now. Aleksander had spent several long weeks persuading the beast not to bolt every time he summoned them; had it been any other horse Aleksander would have probably given up, but damn if there was a horse on the continent faster than Monaghan. He didn’t look like he should be fast at all – nineteen hands high and built like a Fjerdan tank – but as the old saying went, looks could be deceiving. Apparently he had been intended as a racehorse, but for reasons unknown he had grown to a size many had assumed would be too cumbersome for the racetrack, and Aleksander had got him for a steal. No doubt his previous owners would curse him if they knew how fast he ran now. Aleksander still laughed when he thought about the blatant jealousy on Vasily’s face whenever he saw him.</p>
<p>Monaghan’s ears flicked and pressed back against his head as some of the <em>nichevo’ya</em> doubled back and kept pace with them, skittering through the trees in flickers of black and deep grey, but he kept steady as Aleksander guided him through an old trail that certainly seemed more well-used now. Aleksander could see where this new use had been disguised somewhat, fainter trails leading away from the most exposed parts to even out foot traffic and ensure that the trail never got fully trampled down, but for anyone keeping an eye on it – as Aleksander was – it was clear that the trail was seeing more use. Aleksander wondered how many more people would have found their way here by now. It was the first time he had been up to the monastery in person, but he had sent messengers before, kept an eye on the numbers. He had never laid eyes on the place before now, though, and he had to admit he was taken by the dramatics of the place.</p>
<p>There were many such abandoned places in Ravka, chapels and churches and monasteries of all sizes, but outside of the remote east and the war-ravaged border areas it was rare for a place to stay abandoned for long. Some vagabond priest would wander in and make the place home eventually, and so such places rarely fell into ruin. This monastery was unique in the way that it was only half a day’s ride into the forests around the capital, well within reach of any people from the city or surrounding towns who might decide to lead a quieter and more pious life, but the monastery had been abandoned almost seven hundred years ago and had been derelict since then. Most of the building had fallen down by now, the attached abbey no more than several large arches of crumbling rock and a shallow layer of topsoil that would grudgingly reveal a stone floor if kicked enough by a determined boot; the monastery itself had only survived because its upper floor had been hewn out of the rock of a natural ledge created by a river long since diverted, and the rest of it was underground. Generally buildings survived better when worked into the natural landscape, and this place was no exception – from what Aleksander could see as he drew Monaghan to a halt in the middle of the overgrown clearing, the monastery had fared well. The statues that had once adorned it were worn smooth by wind and rain, and parts of the stonework had crumbled, but overall it was still standing and that was more than could be said for the rest of the place.</p>
<p>As for why the place remained abandoned, there were multiple theories. The most common of them, this being Ravka, was that the place was haunted, and Aleksander thought there might be some truth in that. There was something certainly very odd about the clearing, and he thought that had Monaghan not been so relieved that the <em>nichevo’ya</em> had disappeared, he might be voicing his discomfort a little more. As it happened he seemed perfectly relieved to have a break, and as Aleksander swung his leg over and dropped to the ground, Monaghan ambled a short distance over to a crop of particularly tasty-looking grass and began helping himself. Aleksander gave him a firm pat on the neck.</p>
<p>“Behave,” he murmured. “Even if the <em>nichevo’ya</em> show up again. Remember what we talked about.”</p>
<p>Monaghan blew out some air from his nose, and Aleksander decided to take that as agreement.</p>
<p>There was a slight breeze as Aleksander crossed the clearing, the grass tall enough to brush at his knees as he walked. There was a heavy silence to the place, and Aleksander wondered how religious buildings could maintain the atmosphere even long after they had been left to nature. He had often wondered the same as a child – he and his mother had spent many a night in some forgotten chapel, and as Aleksander had huddled under his coat on an old pew, shivering and listening to the wind whistling through the gaps in the stained glass windows, he had marvelled at the fact he still felt the same warm peace that came from any religious building. He had wondered then, if the Saints really <em>were</em> real, if they were holy and divine as the priests said – if that was why the churches felt so welcoming even after they had been forgotten. Maybe the Saints <em>had</em> lived there, or some part of them had perhaps lingered. He wasn’t sure he felt the same way now. Did it count, if <em>he</em> was the Saint the building was dedicated to? Did it mean that the Saints <em>were</em> real, that they did visit their earthly homes, or had his mother been right when she had scoffed and decried the Saints as nothing more than overpowered Grisha thrust into roles they didn’t understand?</p>
<p>“Half of them weren’t even aware of it,” Baghra had snapped irritably, whenever the question had come up. “They were dead by the time the <em>otkazat’sya</em> decided they were Saints. Perhaps they felt bad for killing them all when they could have been useful? Maybe prayer is how you try to make up for it.”</p>
<p>Even at such a young age Aleksander had learned that bitterness had clouded his mother’s knowledge about some things, but now he wondered if she might have a point. After all, he certainly didn’t feel like a Saint, despite many hundreds of people across Ravka beginning to believe otherwise.  </p>
<p>Strange as it was, the years had taught him many more things. People’s expectations could be a powerful tool, and who was he to refuse an advantage when he saw one? Aleksander cleared the open grass and walked up alongside the monastery, feeling the half-buried remains of an old gravel path as he followed the building around and towards the back. There were signs of life here, as the <em>nichevo’ya</em> had shown him there would be: the grass had been tamed and vegetable gardens dug, some of them already producing what looked to be rows upon rows of potato. A couple of people worked in silence, tilling soil and checking leaves for signs of health; Aleksander walked quietly and softened his appearance with the shadows, blending himself into the darkness at the side of the building, and so neither of them looked up as he approached.</p>
<p>The doors here were thrown open, less grand than the ones at the monastery’s main entrance but definitely in a better state of repair. As Aleksander slipped through them he could see where the hinges had been cleaned and oiled, the wood of the door shaved slightly to allow for the swelling of the years. It was still badly cracked and Aleksander thought a decent kick could probably bring the whole thing down, but it wasn’t a bad effort.</p>
<p>Inside, he could almost believe the place had never been abandoned at all. He found himself at the end of a large, wide entrance hall, directly across from where the larger doors would have opened. Back in its original day Aleksander assumed it had probably been a welcoming hall and doubled up as a dining hall; now the floor was cleared of anything that might have been left and resembled the inside of any regular chapel. An aisle travelled through rows of pews, and at the end of it, directly in front of the old main doors, stood an altar as handsome as Aleksander had ever seen. He wondered for a moment where they had found all of this, shaking his head in amusement as he stepped down the aisle, walking swiftly and quietly.</p>
<p>To his right the pews stopped sooner, on account of a large staircase leading to the single upper floor. What was up there Aleksander didn’t know, but he was quite sure it was no longer the dormitories. His people tended to favour the dark – no surprise there. As a result most of them appeared to keep nocturnal hours, and aside from the few people tasked with things that needed daylight to be worth doing – planting and garden tending, for example – the rest of the place would be asleep or in private study. Aleksander headed for the passage to the right of the altar, stepping into near total blackness as he descended the worn stone stairs.</p>
<p><em>Everyone in this country’s moving underground</em>, he thought to himself, walking swiftly along the passageway. He could barely see a foot in front of him, but he could feel the layout of the passage in the shadows – nothing ahead of him, and various rooms and alcoves to the sides. The one he stopped outside had no door, like the others, but the faintest glow of a low fire made its way out into the passage and Aleksander stood just outside its reach, leaning against the wall so he could see the man hunched over the desk.</p>
<p>It seemed as though Yuri had grown even taller since the last time Aleksander had seen him, which would be entirely possible. Yuri had perhaps been seventeen that first time, and he must be nineteen or twenty now. He still had the same atrocious haircut, though, and his skin was still milky and pale – perhaps even more so now he had decided to try life living as a mole. He was bent closely over his work, the chair pushed out slightly to allow him to do so with his height, and he seemed completely oblivious to anything else going on around him. Some things, Aleksander thought, never changed – nearly all of his messengers who had dealt with Yuri had reported that it was possible to get within touching distance of him before he registered somebody might be there, and even then it was likely because they had blocked his light.</p>
<p>In a strange way, the young man reminded Aleksander distinctly of David.</p>
<p>Aleksander drew the shadows around him, allowing them to cling to him as he stepped into the light from the fireplace. It had burned to barely a glow, explaining why Yuri was leaning so close to his work; Aleksander was able to step right up to it and stir the embers with the poker, causing the light to flare and then settle.</p>
<p>Yuri jumped and turned, squinting in the sudden light – no doubt to him it seemed ridiculously bright. Aleksander set the poker back in its place and turned to Yuri, watching as the other man stared at him in momentarily confusion before his eyes went so wide Aleksander could see the whites all the way around the irises.</p>
<p>“No grovelling or bowing today, please, Yuri,” he said amicably, as he crossed the room and made himself comfortable on Yuri’s bunk. Yuri watched every movement he made, his eyes flickering from Aleksander to the shadows he pulled along in his wake with dizzying intensity. “It’s really not necessary.”</p>
<p>Yuri briefly abandoned his ambition to perfectly mimic a mole to instead turn his attention to mimicking a goldfish instead, opening and closing his mouth several times before finally managing to remember human speech.</p>
<p>“<em>Moi soverenyi</em>,” he said breathlessly. “You should have said you were coming, I would have—we haven’t got—”</p>
<p>“Actually,” Aleksander interrupted, putting the poor boy out of his misery, “it was quite important that I kept this low key. I have a favour to ask of you.”</p>
<p>Some of the shock evaporated from Yuri’s face, and he gave a firm nod. It was what made his shameless awe forgivable, Aleksander thought – as soon as Yuri had a purpose, he was all business.</p>
<p>“Anything,” he said, and Aleksander knew he meant it.</p>
<p>“Two favours, I suppose, if we’re being technical,” Aleksander amended. “The first being fairly simple. I’m afraid I have the bad fortune of asking you to tell me anything you know about what Bronagh Moskovaya may be up to these days. Apparently she’s going by Svetlana now.”</p>
<p>“I heard,” Yuri said, narrowing his eyes. For a moment he seemed – blissfully – to forget who he was in the room with; he spoke in rapid, angered sentences, his fist clenched tightly around his pen. “She’s been causing no end of trouble again. I knew she would be an issue ever since she joined up with the Sun Saint’s crowd. Not necessarily because the whole crowd is harmless, mind you – many of them seem rather <em>tame</em>, if you ask me – but because of who <em>she</em> is. Or what she’s like. She always seeks out smaller groups like that; groups that are rather <em>gentle</em>, if I could use such a term. They are, really. None of them seem to cause too much trouble. But Bronagh – Svetlana, if I must – seeks out that kind of environment deliberately. She does it because she wants to define it.”</p>
<p>“She’s after power,” Aleksander said. “Influence.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Yuri said, pulling a face. “She’s always been like that, but she’s never been this dangerous before.”</p>
<p>“No? What makes you say that?”</p>
<p>“Because she <em>believes</em> it this time,” Yuri said, slumping back in his seat. His anger briefly vented, he seemed to remember who he was conversing with again; his eyes took up their dizzying wandering over every inch of Aleksander and the shadows that clung to him once more, as though he were still expecting the entire vision to disintegrate. “Usually she’s only saying what she thinks people want to hear, <em>moi soverenyi</em>. This time she actually stands by it.”</p>
<p>“What makes you so sure?”</p>
<p>“She sacrificed a great deal of influence in order to get her point across,” Yuri explained. “There is a lot of argument going on in the Sun Saint’s factions. We’ve had a fair few defectors come to us because while they still believe in Alina’s Sainthood, they feel that if she is aligning herself with you, they should do the same. They’re frustrated because expressing even the slightest bit of support for you in their factions would cause no end of debate – most people are blindly trusting Alina, you see, without thinking about what it means for you. People still decry you as a heretic but think there must be a bigger plan; those who view the two of you as equals are not finding themselves welcome. So they come to me, or they go to Svetlana. This is what I’ve heard, anyway. Svetlana was apparently becoming a big deal in the Sun Saint’s circles, but then there was some cataclysmic argument regarding her role alongside you and Svetlana took all of her loyalists and left. She just walked out.” Yuri let out a disbelieving laugh. “<em>Svetlana</em>, of all people, turning her back on one of the biggest opportunities of influence she might ever have! She took maybe thirty, forty people and left.”</p>
<p>“And what caused this argument?” Aleksander asked, feigning ignorance. “What was so bad that it caused her to walk?”</p>
<p>“She was sure that Alina had lost her way, or was otherwise being manipulated,” Yuri said. “She thought the only decent thing to do would be to… <em>rescue</em> Alina, I suppose. Take her away from you. Make her pure again.” Yuri frowned. “She thinks you’re corrupting her, you see. She thinks that the longer Alina spends with you, the more corrupt her power will become, and therefore she’ll become a heretic too. At least, that’s what I heard from the defectors. I don’t know if she’s elaborated on this or changed her opinion since.”</p>
<p>“Hmm,” Aleksander said thoughtfully.</p>
<p>“You of course know that none of us believe such nonsense,” Yuri added quickly, his face slightly flushed with anger. “It’s all heresy. She talks a lot about such a thing for somebody who’s committing perhaps the worst heresy of everyone. To think that not so long ago she was beginning to hint that she thought the Saints might not be as divine as we thought! That they might have been regular people! Well, she soon changed her tune when the numbers were added with you. You must be near five hundred years old.”</p>
<p>“Closer to six hundred now,” Aleksander said casually, enjoying the way that Yuri’s anger was immediately doused by a look of sheer reverence. Anger was useful, of course, but Aleksander had to keep him on track. He would be here well into the night otherwise. “She doesn’t seem to have changed her tune, however. In fact, it’s become very important that I find her.”</p>
<p>“She will have hidden herself well,” Yuri said. “She was very aware that a desire for such an action would not find you well.”</p>
<p>“She was correct,” Aleksander said. “I can’t say I’m fond of her having such ideas. I hope to persuade her otherwise.”</p>
<p>“She’s as stubborn as they come,” Yuri said darkly.</p>
<p>“I’m very persuasive,” Aleksander said, smiling. “This is where the other favour comes in, Yuri. I will warn you it won’t be easy.”</p>
<p>“Anything,” Yuri said again, without hesitation.</p>
<p>“I need you to send some of your congregation out into the wild for me,” Aleksander explained. “Preferably some of your defectors, if you can. People who know about the finer details of these groups, but really anybody with fervour and some decent acting skills will do. I need them to try and infiltrate any group that might lead them to Svetlana’s whereabouts, and I need them reporting back to me. Of course,” he added smoothly, “I would prefer to ask you outright, but you’re far too recognisable from your preaching.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Yuri said, sighing with disappointment. “I suppose I am. But it’s no matter. I’m sure I can find who you’re looking for, <em>moi soverenyi</em>. There are plenty of people here who would be only too glad to serve in any way they can.”</p>
<p>“They would need to act utterly convinced of Svetlana’s philosophy,” Aleksander said. “They will have to hide their own loyalty to me, no matter what they might hear said about me. I’m sure they will be capable of remembering that it’s all for a much grander ideal.”</p>
<p>“Of course,” Yuri said, nodding rapidly. “I don’t suppose it matters who, so long as they have those qualities? Age, gender, background – nothing like that?”</p>
<p>“The more variety the better, really,” Aleksander said. “Different people will have access to different sorts.”</p>
<p>Yuri nodded again, and Aleksander gave him a moment to run through his mental lists. The boy had an incredible memory, which Aleksander supposed was useful when one was always travelling around, recruiting and preaching, adding names to a growing list. He was also grateful for the fact that Yuri asked no questions. At first he had wondered if Yuri was simply too eager to please – that could be just as dangerous as resistance, after all – but he had since learned that Yuri simply knew when to ask questions and when something was above his paygrade, so it were. It was clear that Yuri realised something more was occurring now, but instead of frustrating him with curiosity it simply made him more efficient. Aleksander had not yet allowed the news of Alina’s disappearance to leak, and thanks to Svetlana having to lay low and having few allies even in Alina’s circles, the secret had so far remained a secret. Aleksander wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep it that way, but he hoped to manage it for a while yet. Yuri’s people wouldn’t need to know that detail for now – it would only compromise them, leaving them with a risk of letting something they shouldn’t know slip.</p>
<p>“I know who will be best,” Yuri eventually said, nodding decisively. “It’s late, but I strongly doubt they will mind being roused for this.”</p>
<p>Aleksander nodded. “Fetch them. We shall go outside, away from any prying ears.”</p>
<p>Yuri nodded again, getting to his feet slightly unsteadily. He had to bow his head to walk without scraping the ceiling as he walked to the door; he paused once, staring back at Aleksander as though he still couldn’t quite believe he was there, and then he ducked out into the gloom of the hallway. Aleksander felt him moving away through the shadows.</p>
<p>He gave them a few minutes’ head start, waiting until Yuri had herded his curious volunteers up towards the main hall before he followed. He emerged into the bright light of the hall, blinking slightly, and caught up with them just as someone approached Yuri from the rear door, her face a mask of utter confusion.</p>
<p>“Sister Yuliya!” Yuri greeted her. “What’s the matter?”</p>
<p>“It’s the strangest thing, Brother Yuri,” Yuliya said, glancing back over her shoulder, “but there’s the biggest horse I’ve ever seen outside, and he’s trying to dig up the potatoes.”</p>
<p>“Oh, there will be no <em>trying</em> about it,” Aleksander said conversationally, slipping past the others and heading for the door. “You need to give him a good shove, or he’ll have them. He’s a lamb, really. Monaghan! I thought I told you to behave?”</p>
<p>The distinctive sound of guilty hooves making a rapid retreat met him, and Aleksander stepped outside and left the stunned group behind him to regather their senses and catch up.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The morning began early, and Alina wondered if it was a normal thing or if it was simply a special occasion. She couldn’t ever recall hearing this many people moving past her cell before, but then again this was the first morning that she had been any kind of coherent, so for all she knew it was a regular day. She had spent an hour listening and trying in vain to catch a few more minutes of sleep, but she would be lying to herself if she tried to say that Aleksander’s absence wasn’t making that impossible. Finally she pushed herself up onto an elbow, wincing as she felt the cold stone bite through the thin excuse for a mattress, and quickly gulped down the rest of the water. She had a feeling that if she didn’t do so then, she wouldn’t get lucky and have it escape Svetlana’s notice a third time.</p>
<p>The water tasted slightly stale, as all aired water tended to do, and Alina looked around the cell, squinting through the gloom and trying to focus on the place where the walls joined the ceiling. She was trying to see if there was any mould – with mould there was damp, and if there was damp she could find a small source of water, even if it meant licking it from the stone like a wild animal. The thought didn’t much bother her. She had done similar things on long marches in the army, and it was preferable to ever feeling as sick as she had been again. Even now she still had the faint traces of a headache, though it seemed to improve after she drank the water. It always surprised her, how quickly it could have an effect. Was that normal for everyone, or was that simply because thanks to her power, she would always recover quicker?</p>
<p>She looked around the dark room again and felt a slow dread creep into her chest. What was she going to do once not using her power made her sicken? She had spent most of her life feeling like that – she didn’t want to start again now. She wondered if she could twist her words into making Svetlana agree that it was only proper to allow a Saint to use their power, but she didn’t think it likely. Svetlana would know Alina would use it against her in a heartbeat – not to mention she seemed the type to piously inform Alina that it was just another form of fasting and it was good for the soul, or whatever. Alina rolled her eyes at the thought, taking full advantage of the fact it no longer split her head in half to do so.</p>
<p>Now that her thirst had been satisfied, her body duly reminded her that it also needed to eat. She felt a rush of irritation as her stomach growled, glaring at it.</p>
<p>“Do you not think we’ve got more important things to worry about?” she asked.</p>
<p>Of course, her stomach didn’t find the merit in her argument. It growled again and Alina sighed, resigning herself.</p>
<p><em>You’ve been hungrier</em>, she thought, but it didn’t much make her feel better. She turned her attention to her feet instead, tugging at the ropes more out of obligation than any hope she would make progress. She couldn’t feel either of her feet, and they were an ugly, blotchy red-purple, her toes darkest of all. It made her feel queasy to look at, so she went back to scanning the room in search of water sources. She could <em>smell</em> damp, but it didn’t seem to be close by. For an underground system, the place was depressingly dry.</p>
<p><em>Think about it</em>, she told herself, hearing the words in Aleksander’s voice. <em>What does that mean?</em></p>
<p>It was hot and humid in the south, at this time of the year. Everything was damp. In the north the summers were cooler and drier, the humidity almost non-existent. Alina wondered if one simple fact was enough for such a conclusion, but she remembered something else that Aleksander had told her – just because she wasn’t sure of the right answer didn’t mean that eliminating the obviously wrong ones was a waste of time. She was not in the south. That much she knew for certain, and that would surely narrow down the escape routes these people could have taken. Aleksander knew Ravka’s geography like the back of his hand. Maybe he would have an idea of where they had gone?</p>
<p>She was about to try contacting him – probably in vain, as she still hadn’t managed to do it consciously yet, and she cursed herself for never bothering to learn and instead foolishly assuming that with him by her side, they wouldn’t <em>need</em> her to know just yet – but before she could even get settled there was a light step outside her door and it swung open. She had expected to see Svetlana, considering how quiet the tread, but it was Matvey who came through the door. Alina felt a flicker of amusement, though she managed to keep it from her face this time. She didn’t actually want everyone here thinking she was a lunatic, but there was something inherently funny in the fact that Matvey walked with such grace despite being roughly the size of a house. He reminded her a little of Tolya, if Tolya was able to do anything quietly at all.</p>
<p>“Sankta,” Matvey said, bowing his head perfectly politely. “Your presence is required today. I am going to untie your feet. I hope that you don’t try to do anything ill-informed again.”</p>
<p>“I know how to pick my battles, Matvey,” Alina said.</p>
<p>He inclined his head again and crouched by Alina’s feet, pulling at the ropes. Even crouching, he was almost as tall as Alina.</p>
<p>“I hope,” he said, pulling the ropes at a few strategic places and leaning over so Alina couldn’t see what he was doing – something she had, admittedly, been trying to do, “that soon enough you won’t see any of this as a battle, Sankta. We really do mean all the best.”</p>
<p>“I’m sure you do,” Alina said gently, adopting the Saint-as-a-Mother persona that always worked best with young men like Matvey. “But you have to understand that sometimes what <em>you</em> think is best might not actually <em>be</em> the best.”</p>
<p>“At least try, Sankta,” Matvey replied, with equal gentleness. “Our methods may be harsh, but it is the true way.”</p>
<p>He rose, stepping over and pulling her quickly to her feet. He did so with such ease that Alina didn’t register what was happening until she was already up, balancing on feet she couldn’t feel at all. Thankfully Matvey kept a firm hold of her, otherwise she would have fallen right back to the floor.</p>
<p>“Try to walk as you normally would,” Matvey told her. “The circulation will return more quickly if you do.”</p>
<p>Alina almost asked if he knew such a thing from experience, but the effort of putting one foot in front of the other when she couldn’t feel them and every impact with the floor make pins and needles flare up her legs was distracting enough that she forgot about it. They made their unsteady way out of the cell and into the hallway, whereupon Matvey steered her to the right. She felt like a small child just learning to walk, being held upright by an indulging parent, though she supposed that when her parents had done that for her – if they ever had – she had been young enough to not feel so stupid.</p>
<p>By the time they reached a set of worn stairs carved into the rock, enough of the feeling in her feet had returned that she could actually feel where she was putting them. The pins and needles made it almost to her knee, making her claves feel as though they were alive with thousands of tiny, stinging insects, but Alina forced herself to put her feet down as heavily as she could while barefoot, not wishing to prolong the sensation any longer than she had to. Now that walking didn’t require all of her concentration she began tuning in to her surroundings, trying to feel if the light was any closer. There was still nothing, and beyond that she could feel how deeply underground they were; it was like a weight pressing on her from above. Matvey stayed close behind her and the walls and ceiling pressed in, and for the first time in her life Alina felt a bite of claustrophobia.</p>
<p>Svetlana surprised her, stepping out of a side passage that Alina didn’t even notice until Svetlana appeared in front of her. She immediately took Alina by the shoulders, peering into her face and frowning.</p>
<p>“All Saints, Matvey, you could have at least poured some water over her,” she said, speaking over Alina’s shoulder. “She’s filthy.”</p>
<p>“She has been laying in a cell for the better part of a week, Priestess,” Matvey said patiently.</p>
<p>“Yes, well,” Svetlana said irritably. She reached up and pinched a strand of Alina’s hair, frowning at it. “I suppose it will do. I don’t want everyone thinking the Heretic had her looking <em>too</em> prim and proper.”</p>
<p>Alina felt a sudden rush of anger, reaching up and slapping Svetlana’s hand away. “He doesn’t abuse me,” she snapped. “I won’t have you telling anyone any lies.”</p>
<p>“He doesn’t, does he?” Svetlana asked. “This is what I’m talking about, Matvey. She’s completely deluded.”</p>
<p>“<em>You</em> did this,” Alina protested, as Svetlana grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her down the hall. She would have yanked her wrist away, but her legs were still unsteady and Svetlana was moving too quickly for Alina to be able to coordinate both. “I don’t look like this because of <em>him</em>.”</p>
<p>“Nobody will believe the ramblings of a deluded woman,” Svetlana responded bluntly.</p>
<p>“I have to wonder how you’ve made your career, then,” Alina shot back.</p>
<p>“Insolence!” Svetlana said loudly, coming to a sudden stop and rounding on Alina so quickly that she flinched back, feeling the solid weight of Matvey behind her. “Insolence, <em>again</em>! We should never have delayed for so long. If those other heathens had just <em>listened</em> to me—”</p>
<p>She broke herself off, shaking her head and beginning to pull Alina down the passage again. Alina spotted several more side passages, some of them well-lit and others fading quickly into darkness; she got the sense that this place could be infinite, that she could start walking down one of the passageways and never come out. Her hope of escape faded a little more – it seemed the only way she was ever going to stand a chance of getting out would be if she somehow got to the surface.</p>
<p>The passageway they were walking down had widened slightly, and at the end of it Alina could make out a glow that was growing larger as they got closer. Finally Alina realised it was an archway, and whatever was beyond it was well-lit with lanterns flickering in sockets at regular intervals along the walls; despite the fact she could feel that the space ahead of her was vast, she still wasn’t prepared for the size of it.</p>
<p>It seemed to be a natural hollow in the rock, carved out by what had once been a raging underground river. She could see what was left of the river now – calmer and smaller, it wound its way through the centre of the hall. Perhaps <em>hall</em> wasn’t the right word for it, considering its unconventional shape, but it reminded Alina of a hall – a grand entrance hall in a manor house or one of the receiving halls in the Palace, or perhaps the main room of a large church or a small cathedral. The major difference – outside of its being entirely underground and having a river running through it – was that while most halls were uniform in length and width, this hall followed the gentle curve of the river, meaning that Alina couldn’t see all the way to the far end until Svetlana had marched her to a certain point in the almost-centre of a natural shelf that acted as a stage. The steps leading down to the main hall area seemed natural, shelves of rock that created an uneven staircase, and to Alina’s right the river quietly ran out from a gap in the rocks and made its lazy way through the hall, disappearing into the rock again somewhere around the bend.</p>
<p>It was beautiful, Alina thought. Despite her situation, and despite the fact that this was the last place she wanted to be, it was a beautiful place. It also had the decency to be very remarkable in appearance – it was so distinct that Alina felt a flicker of hope again. If she described this place, surely somebody would know where it was?</p>
<p>She had been so busy looking around at the river and the sheer faces of the rock walls vanishing into the shadows above that she hadn’t noticed they had company. Matvey remained somewhere behind them, no doubt watching Alina’s every move, and so she and Svetlana were alone in the not-quite centre of the stage, looking down upon, Alina now realised, several dozen faces staring back at them. They ranged in age, the youngest being perhaps fifteen and the oldest looking as though she could easily be in her nineties; all of them noticed the moment Alina’s attention turned to them and they answered with rapt attention of their own, eyes wide and exhilarant.</p>
<p>Alina had forgotten how much she hated to be looked at like that. It took everything in her power not to step behind Svetlana in a vain attempt to hide.</p>
<p>The congregation were dressed plainly, in the same monk-style robes as Svetlana and Matvey wore. In the better lighting Alina could see that Svetlana’s robe was a blue so dark it was almost black, several shades darker than her own kefta; Matvey, along with the rest of the congregation, had a plain robe of some indistinct dark colour, black or perhaps dark brown. Every face in the congregation was scrubbed clean, no makeup or jewellery to identify anyone – not even a pair of plain earrings. Alina glanced at Svetlana and confirmed what she already knew: Svetlana wore jewellery, even if it was plainly adorned. A simple pair of golden studded earrings that caught the flickering light of the lamps, and a plain silver chain around her neck, attached to which was a plain silver sunburst.</p>
<p>For some reason, the sight made her want to touch at the collar. She resisted the urge, clenching her fists tight in the sleeves of her kefta and trying not to think about how different that gesture would be if she were closer to the light.</p>
<p>Svetlana looked perfectly at home in front of the crowd. She stood easily on the stage, smiling kindly at everyone, allowing the anticipation to build before she spoke. Despite the face her voice was soft and quiet, everyone hushed immediately; even the rustle of clothing vanished as everyone eagerly took in her every word.</p>
<p>“Brothers and sisters,” she said, pausing to smile at everyone once more. “Did I not promise you? Have I deceived you?”</p>
<p>Murmurs broke out among the crowd, their eyes shifting hungrily to Alina. She could feel their gazes raking over her, and she was suddenly aware of her grubby feet, the skin still slightly purple under the toenails; the way her hair stuck out every which way, in desperate need of a wash. She could almost hear what Genya might have said, in a time that seemed so far away now. She didn’t say much to Alina these days, admittedly; she did all her work in silence, her shawl pulled low over her face to avoid catching herself accidentally in the mirror. Alina felt a twist of grief and forced it back. She was getting too sentimental, she supposed, stuck out here in this stupid situation.</p>
<p><em>Learn to harden yourself against anyone who might hurt you,</em> Aleksander had told her, and Alina took it to heart now, pushing all the thoughts away and not bothering to disguise her disdain as she watched Svetlana out of the corner of her eye.  </p>
<p>Svetlana must have felt the glare because she turned to meet it, her elated expression never faltering. “See the damage that has already been done, brothers and sisters? See that she doesn’t realise she is among friends? I will admit that sometimes I fear we might be too late.”</p>
<p>More murmuring, this time in the vein of disagreement. She could play a crowd, Alina thought. Watch her closely, and she might learn a few things.</p>
<p>“I know, I know,” Svetlana eventually said, when the murmuring had begun to rise in volume. “I shouldn’t speak so pessimistically. I know that we will be able to set things right. I merely admit my worry because I wish to warn you that it will not be easy. Remember that no matter what you see, no matter what you do – it is for love.”</p>
<p>This time the noise from the crowd had the distinct cadence of prayer; Alina heard her own name mentioned several times. She turned to look properly at Svetlana, hiding her growing unease under a mask of pure frustration.</p>
<p>“Why do you lie to them like this?” she asked, her own voice low but clear.</p>
<p>The crowd fell silent, Alina’s own voice having twice the effect of Svetlana’s. To Alina’s surprise, Svetlana made no attempt to quieten her. Perhaps Alina should have been more suspicious, but she wasn’t about to waste any opportunity she might have.</p>
<p>“She’s lying to you,” she told the congregation, her voice gentle but firm. “I know you all mean well. I know you all care about me every bit you claim to. But you have been misled. I understand how it looks, but I worry you’ve let your own fears get the better of you. This woman hasn’t even tried to understand the situation; she’s allowed herself to come to dangerous conclusions and she’s dragged you all into it with her. I understand if you have worries, but don’t you realise you could have simply asked me?” She softened her expression, remembering as she did so the countless times she had seen Aleksander do the same thing. Sometimes it was out of a genuine desire to let a person know he was listening to them; he was hearing what they said. Other times he was merely preparing to spring the trap. “You know I would never lie to you,” she said. “Don’t you trust me?”</p>
<p>Ironic, that they were Aleksander’s words, levelled at a crowd that was convinced she was being corrupted by him. Alina would have liked to use something else, but she couldn’t help it if the words were a perfect fit for the situation. Besides, she was fairly certain that nobody in this crowd had ever seen Aleksander use such phrases. He tended to only use them in specific situations, and most of the time the person on the receiving end was, in one way or another, not in a position to repeat them afterwards.</p>
<p>She wasn’t sure what to make of the expressions that watched her. There was something softer in them, she thought, but while she might be learning a few things from Aleksander’s speech she was still far behind him when it came to reading faces. It was still a mystery to her, how he managed to work out what he did from the slightest expression, the smallest flicker of the eyes. She thought she could see sympathy before her, but it could also be pity – pity directed at her. She fought the urge to slump her shoulders.</p>
<p>“You see what he’s done to her?” Svetlana asked quietly.</p>
<p>Alina could have screamed. No wonder Svetlana hadn’t bothered to stop her talking – she had as good as proven Svetlana’s point.</p>
<p>“Oh, Sankta,” somebody murmured from the back of the crowd. It sounded like the old lady, and her voice was filled with such grief that Alina wanted to throttle Svetlana.</p>
<p>“How can you play with them like this?” she demanded, looking at the Priestess. “You talk about corruption and manipulation – what are you doing?”</p>
<p>“My cause is a holy one,” Svetlana said calmly.</p>
<p>“If you believe so much in my holiness, then <em>listen</em> to me!” Alina snapped. “You are putting these people in danger. I won’t stand here and pretend to you that the Darkling is a kind man. He is every bit as cruel as he needs to be – but he takes no pleasure in doing it. He is ruthless but he is not a sadist; he is not <em>evil</em>. I’ve already explained to you why he does what he does. Do you think he’ll be like this forever? No! Only as long as it’s necessary. You understand being cruel for something better in the long run – at least from what I’ve heard, you seem to be. The Darkling doesn’t deliberately seek out people to hurt, but when he finds you he is going to be beyond furious. If he finds you and you’ve <em>harmed</em> me, he will kill you all where you stand – and that’s if you’re lucky.”</p>
<p>To her frustration, her words had little impact on Svetlana. Alina tried to take comfort from the fact that their meaning had landed on the congregation with a little more weight.</p>
<p>“You think you’re safe here,” she continued, addressing the room at large. “I’ll admit you’re well hidden, but you don’t understand what he’s like. He has eyes everywhere. He knows things about power that none of you could begin to guess at. He has lived in these lands for almost six hundred years, and you think you can hide?” She shook her head, any of her earlier acting now gone. “I’m begging you to let me go back to him. I don’t want to see you all killed because one foolish woman fed you lies.”</p>
<p>“Do you think she would remain silent?” Svetlana demanded. “If we let her go, do you think she would say nothing? You can see the control he has over her. She would tell him everything.”</p>
<p>“Blindfold me,” Alina shot back. “Drug me again. Make it so I can’t see where we are and leave me somewhere for him to find me. Even if you <em>were</em> correct, I wouldn’t have the information to tell him.”</p>
<p>“I will not take any risks when it comes to the Heretic’s trickery,” Svetlana said firmly.</p>
<p>“Say he can find out where you are even with me safe,” Alina said. “I could intervene. He listens to me, or did you forget that part, too? Did you forget that I’m his balance? If I asked him to spare you, he would.” She forced her tone to harden. “I might not feel so generous if you hold me captive and harm me.”</p>
<p>“You will not twist my arm, Sankta,” Svetlana said, her voice holding the same gentle sureness of the devout – almost soft, if only there was any chance that it could be reasoned with. “Regardless, we shall not have to worry about such things when you come to your senses. You will gladly protect us from him then.”</p>
<p>“I will never stand against him,” Alina said, her voice low, surprising her with the anger it held.</p>
<p>“My poor Saint,” Svetlana said, sighing. She reached over and cupped Alina’s cheek.</p>
<p>Alina made herself stand her ground, glaring at the woman. Perhaps she should have let herself move away, recoil from the touch – Svetlana held her hand to her cheek for only a moment before quickly moving her hand back, tangling her fist firmly in Alina’s hair and pulling hard. Alina cried out, clawing at Svetlana’s hands, but her grip was firm and she had the advantage as she twisted her fist, forcing Alina to hunch over as she tried to pull free. When Svetlana spoke, her voice was so even that it was almost impossible to believe that at that moment, she was wrestling a struggling person to their knees by their hair.</p>
<p>“If you would all join me in prayer,” she said, as Alina cursed and clawed at her. “As we rehearsed.”</p>
<p>Alina couldn’t make out what was being said – the voices were a melodious drone, and she was too busy trying to get free. Svetlana’s grip was unyielding, though, and before Alina knew it she had been forced to her knees, breathless and her eyes watering. She could feel Matvey standing close behind her now, rendering any hope of escape even more useless, but she still fought against Svetlana anyway, even though the burning in her scalp. Somewhere behind her she thought she could hear footsteps, but it could easily have been the steady thud of her heart in her ears, and she was too furious to stop and listen properly.</p>
<p>She was beginning to tire by the time Svetlana drew the prayer to a close. She had hoped she would have more energy than this, but she was hungry and it had now been four or five days since she had last used her power – she knew from unfortunate experience that it didn’t take long to begin to have an effect. She had been terribly sick before she and Mal had even reached the halfway point in their crossing to Novyi Zem, but that was another avenue of thought that she didn’t let herself go down. She was forced to remain in the present, kneeling on cold stone and breathless with effort, her scalp burning and her eyes watering, realising that it <em>had</em> been footsteps that were approaching.</p>
<p>“Remember,” Svetlana said, as the footsteps drew level somewhere alongside Matvey. Alina couldn’t turn her head even an inch to see, but she realised she could smell heat. Nothing in particular – just the sharp smell of something very hot, like taking a deep breath on an unnaturally warm day. “While what we must do seems cruel, it is the only way. It is a tough thing, to accept that badness can only be driven out by suffering. Pain is purifying; plenty of our forebears knew this.”</p>
<p>Alarmed, Alina tried to shift to see what was going on behind her. She didn’t make it far before Svetlana wrenched her back, but this time she moved her hand slightly, pulling her hair up off her shoulders and twisting it around her hand. Alina could feel cool air on the exposed parts of her neck, apart from behind her, to her left. There the heat remained, as though she were close to an open fireplace in somehow just that spot.</p>
<p>“It would be a wonderful thing, were we able to remove this abomination,” Svetlana continued, and Alina heard her nail tap against the bone collar, felt it vibrate slightly with the touch. She tried to pull away despite its uselessness, surprised by the revulsion that went through her – the anger that Svetlana had <em>dared</em> touch it.</p>
<p>“Don’t you dare,” she practically hissed.</p>
<p>Svetlana paused, and Alina could feel her eyes on her. After a moment she continued as though there had been no interruption.</p>
<p>“Unfortunately such a thing is not a possibility, so we will have to settle for whatever we can. Such a monstrosity cannot be predicted – who knows what kind of influence it exerts over her? All we can do is ensure that it never rests easy. We cannot let her forget what it truly is. She must never be comfortable with it.”</p>
<p>With an unspoken cue, Matvey stepped back. Alina heard something hiss and then scrape; when Matvey returned again he crossed in front of Alina, and she realised she was supposed to see this part.</p>
<p>Matvey was holding what looked to be a piece of metal about the size and shape of a fire poker. For all Alina knew it might be one, but if it was it had clearly been left in the fire for some time. The top of it was wrapped in countless layers of thick fabric; the bottom glowed red with heat. Alina could see the air wavering around it; feel the heat on her skin even from this distance. She felt her throat go suddenly dry.</p>
<p>“If you damage it you’ll kill us all,” she said quickly, trying to twist around to look at Svetlana. “You think the Fold was bad? You have no idea. If this amplifier is destroyed the release of its power will make the Fold look like a papercut.”</p>
<p>“The amplifier will not be harmed, Sankta,” Svetlana said, quite calm even as she carefully took the rod from Matvey. “I do not presume to tamper with things I do not fully understand.”</p>
<p>“You could have fooled me,” Alina said. She had been aiming for sarcasm, but the words came out as more of a squeak.</p>
<p>“You may wish to hold still, Sankta,” Svetlana said, tightening her grip on Alina’s hair. “I <em>do</em> only wish to do necessary damage.”</p>
<p>Alina had no idea where Svetlana was going to burn her, but in hindsight it seemed obvious. The tip of the rod came to rest almost gently at her collarbone, right at the spot where the antlers usually rested. There was just enough room for the rod to find skin there; Alina found she braced herself more for any damage to the amplifier, but of course it was unaffected by the heat. She should have known that it would take far more than that to destroy something so powerful – she only wished the same could be said for her.</p>
<p>At first there was no pain. She could feel that the rod was impossibly hot, but her skin felt ice-cold. Then she smelled burning, and <em>then</em> the pain arrived, skipping a gentle rise and hitting her instead with immediate urgency. The entire right side of her upper body seemed alive with it – she could feel the heat in her chest, in her shoulder, radiating through her arm, so stunning that it was overwhelming. The part of her that remained outside of it all had just enough time to hope that shock would keep her from screaming, but it seemed that choice was beyond her – as was the choice regarding whether or not she remained still. It was instinctive to try to pull away, her struggling all the more desperate as the smell of burning continued and the pain increased; she no longer cared about the hand in her hair. Svetlana could rip a chunk of her scalp out, for all Alina minded – anything was better than this.</p>
<p>She was vaguely aware that she was screaming, but the sound seemed so far away and she couldn’t bring herself to pay much attention to it. It took her several moments to realise that Svetlana had removed the rod – the pain was still just as intense as before, and cruelly it seemed to only be growing worse even with the cause of it no longer present. Alina let herself go limp with such suddenness that Svetlana was almost pulled with her; the rod struck the ground inches from Alina and sparks flew from the stone.</p>
<p>“Matvey,” Svetlana said calmly, and Alina felt herself pulled back to her knees. “Hold her steady. She’s stronger than she looks.”</p>
<p>Alina wanted to scream at her, demand to know if she honestly thought anybody would meekly submit to being maimed, but all of her concentration was focused on her breathing. Her breaths came to her in ragged, pained gasps, her entire body feeling far too hot. She knew now what was coming and it was worse than not knowing – she had heard people say that it was always more psychologically devastating to keep somebody in the dark, but Alina respectfully disagreed. Knowing that she would have to endure the same thing on her left side was too much; she thought she might be pleading with Svetlana, but she didn’t want to think about it too closely. All she could see was the red point of the poker, the skin at her collarbone already prickling with heat, and then she was suddenly aware that a space in her mind had opened up, strange and with an unknown destination.</p>
<p>Alina didn’t care. She threw herself down it with everything she could, hoping to leave the pain behind.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The biggest frustration of the moment was the fact that despite the wider situation, Aleksander still found large chunks of his day taken up with all the menial tasks of running a country currently fighting a war at both of its borders as well as one within them. Such things weren’t uncommon for Ravka, and Aleksander had had plenty of practise – far more so than anyone seated around the table with him currently, at any rate – but he had never had to deal with it when he had bigger issues to worry about, and he found he didn’t much care for it. Alina’s disappearance was a large secret to keep, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold it close for much longer. People were already asking about her; there were things that she was supposed to be seeing to that she was conspicuously absent from. More people than Aleksander would have liked already knew, because it was impossible to keep it from them, but soon he would have no choice but to make the situation very clear. There were only so many things one could do undercover, but Aleksander would be damned if he risked letting this news get back to Nikolai before he absolutely had to. The less time that bastard prince had to plan, the better Aleksander slept.</p>
<p>“Yes, Minister,” Aleksander said, for perhaps the fourth time. “As I’ve <em>said</em>, it would be a solid plan if it wasn’t for the logistics of getting so many supplies across hundreds of miles of permafrost, all without being seen. You are aware of the… unique political and geographical anomalies of that area, I assume?”</p>
<p>The Minister in question was one Count Rulnoff, a prime example of the network of aristocrats that the Lantsov kings had furnished their cabinets with – not because they had any talent for the job, but because they were friends of the royals and therefore good for the long boozy lunches most war cabinets enjoyed, and also because they were often flush with cash that Ravka was not. That was the only reason that Rulnoff was still on the team – Aleksander would have fed him to the <em>nichevo’ya</em> long ago if it wasn’t for Rulnoff’s pretty young Kerch wife and all the money her family funnelled into Rulnoff’s pockets.</p>
<p>“I know that it’s complicated,” Rulnoff said, which was a vast understatement.</p>
<p>“It’s very complicated,” Aleksander said, having to stifle a yawn. How could it be so early in the morning, and yet everyone had already reached peak infuriation? “For a start the land is disputed – nobody has decided where the lines are drawn in that section of the border, and both Ravka and Fjerda lay claim to various sections of permafrost which, I’ll remind you, have absolutely nothing on them and no prospects for building or mining. It’s merely a matter of pride and it wastes everyone’s time, but the important thing to know is that with it being so disputed, Fjerda can freely send patrols through the area without illegally crossing any borders and officially invading. That means if you want to send a train of supplies up there, Fjerdan scouts will easily be able to find it and wipe everyone out. Thanks to the… <em>financing decisions</em> of the previous Cabinet, Ravka simply does not have the weaponry to outrun them or stand against them in open battlefield combat.”</p>
<p>Several members of the Cabinet shifted uncomfortably and dropped their gaze; Aleksander allowed himself a moment to enjoy himself.</p>
<p>“Yes, well,” Rulnoff muttered, and then he spoke so quietly that Aleksander could only make out a few snatched words here and there, mostly appearing to blame the family accountant for discrepancies in funding.</p>
<p><em>They’d hang him for that kind of financial mismanagement in Kerch</em>, Aleksander thought, wryly wishing Ravka had some of the same rules – of course it didn’t, because then the entire royal family would have been strung up long ago. Also not a bad thing, in Aleksander’s mind, and he was just about to irritably bring the discussion back round to something that stood a chance of being more productive when he saw her.</p>
<p>It was the first time Alina had managed to come to him, and looking at her, Aleksander wasn’t sure she even knew what she was doing. She appeared suddenly, as solid as anyone else in the room but invisible to all except Aleksander, kneeling on the ground and hunching over herself like a frightened child trying to hide. Aleksander managed to hide the slight start her sudden appearance gave him, though Mikhail – standing guard at the wall to Aleksander’s left – gave him a curious look that Aleksander carefully ignored. He glanced around the table to see if anything unusual had been noticed by the others, but nobody was paying much attention to him – Count Rulnoff was engaged in a heated debate with another Count of something or other and the Earl of somewhere else, all of them apparently vehemently denying any doing in the funding mismanagement, and truthfully Aleksander had never been so grateful for the easily bruised pride of Ravka’s aristocracy. He was able to turn all of his attention to Alina, who had finally realised that something about the situation was strange.</p>
<p>She looked up as he glanced over at her, and this time Aleksander couldn’t disguise the shock that flashed over his face. Alina looked almost wild, her eyes wide and white all around the edges, her cheeks streaked with tears. Usually appearing in such a way would negate any blemishes or imperfections on one’s person – Aleksander appeared, for example, without the faint scars that traced his face and neck – but Alina seemed dishevelled, her clothing askew and showing the wear of travel. What struck Aleksander most was the stunned terror in her eyes.</p>
<p>“Sasha,” she said, and her voice was hoarse – like she’d been screaming. “Sasha, <em>help</em>, they’re burning me, they’re—”</p>
<p>Something must have severed her concentration. Aleksander felt the connection break off with uncomfortable force, and Alina was gone.</p>
<p>He had risen to his feet before he even knew what he was doing. He made it two steps before anyone outside of Mikhail noticed, and it took everything Aleksander had to keep his voice steady.</p>
<p>“I have other urgent matters to attend to,” he said, keeping his voice curt. “You gentlemen can finish up your debate at your leisure.”</p>
<p>Several people looked affronted, but Aleksander enjoyed a certain amount of fear among them – nobody would say anything. He was able to leave without any further questions, barely able to keep his pace steady and casual as he crossed the room and pulled open one of the doors. The hallway outside was miraculously deserted; it was all he could do not to break into a sprint as he turned left and headed quickly down it.</p>
<p>“<em>Moi soverenyi</em>?”</p>
<p>Mikhail had appeared suddenly at his elbow, looking at him questioningly.</p>
<p>“There is something important I need to see to,” Aleksander replied, pausing at a door and listening before moving to the next one. No sound came from behind it – he pushed it open and found one of the Palace’s many sitting rooms, deserted and carrying with it the slightly musty smell of a room that had been shut up for many months. “Wait outside. Do not allow anyone to disturb me. If anyone gets it into their head that it’s urgent and won’t leave you alone, I will turn a blind eye to reasonable force.”</p>
<p>Mikhail grinned and nodded.</p>
<p>Aleksander closed the door and turned to the room, already throwing himself blindly down the bond even as he stumbled over to one of the couches. He sat down heavily, resting his elbows on his knees and tangling his hands in his hair, gripping tightly; he could <em>feel</em> the connection, feel it almost snap into place before something pulled it away again, and he let out a low growl of frustration.</p>
<p><em>Concentrate</em>, he thought, not at himself but towards Alina. <em>Focus!</em></p>
<p>He didn’t know if he had somehow managed to send his words down the bond or if it was just coincidence, but at that moment he felt the room dissolve around him, the strange wrenching in the pit of his stomach as part of him was pulled away from his body. Everything was a blur of colour and wind, too quick for Aleksander to try and see if there were any clues to be had, and suddenly he was standing in an immense underground cave. The room was blurred around him, only Alina in sharp focus, but he could feel the vastness around him, the emptiness above him. He stepped forward, everything rippling around him as he moved through it, and finally he drew close enough to see the people closest to Alina in better focus. They still wavered slightly, like light filtering down from underwater, but it was enough for Aleksander to understand beyond all doubt what was happening.</p>
<p>Svetlana had just moved the heated metal away, and Aleksander could see a horrific burn at Alina’s collarbone, open and raw and the twin of the burn on her other side. Alina was slumped forward, sobbing, one of Svetlana’s hands tangled roughly in her hair, though as Svetlana let go it was clear Alina was held up more so by the giant of a man standing behind her. Aleksander felt the world flicker around him as his concentration wavered, the anger briefly so overwhelming that he almost lost his grip on the connection. He forced himself to remain grounded, stumbling closer and dropping to his knees as close to Alina as he could get.</p>
<p>“Don’t react,” he murmured, and while he saw her tense slightly she kept her head bowed, her sobbing unbroken. “I’m here. I’m going to find you, Alina. I’m going to make every single one of these people pay.”</p>
<p>He could see Svetlana and her oversized assistant clearly enough from where he was, but the rest of the people he could sense were a blur to him. He knew where they were – there was a presence there, and if he squinted he could make out the vague outlines – but there wasn’t enough detail to make out their faces, and Aleksander wanted to memorise every single one of them. He felt the anger flicker through him again, the world moving with it, and once again he swallowed it back.</p>
<p>“I’m here,” he said again. “They don’t know it, but I am. They’ve already lost. I know what they’re trying to do, Alina, and I know it won’t work. I’m right here and they don’t even know it. You’ve won, and they don’t even know it.”</p>
<p><em>I’m going to kill them,</em> he wanted to say. <em>I’m going to rip them all limb from limb. There won’t be anything left to find. I’m going to wipe them out; they won’t have names, they won’t have graves</em>.</p>
<p>He wanted to say it more than anything, but Alina didn’t need his anger right now.</p>
<p>“You’ll be alright,” he said instead. “Nothing they can do to you will last. Nothing they can do will hold up once we get you back. There won’t be marks, not unless you decide you want them.”</p>
<p>He could feel Alina’s question, even as she continued to sob quietly. Somewhere to the left Svetlana had put the metal rod down; Aleksander could hear it hissing against something, but so long as it wasn’t anywhere near Alina, it wasn’t important. He was slightly more curious about what Svetlana was saying, because she was addressing the crowd, but the words reached him in a low, distant murmur, and he couldn’t make out anything other than the cadence.</p>
<p>“Sometimes you want to keep evidence of something,” he explained quietly. “You might not think it when it’s happening, but some people don’t like to have no proof it happened. Not because they’re worried other people won’t believe them, but because they want to believe it themselves. Things like this seem like dreams once you’re safe again. For that reason I never have my Healers get rid of a wound completely without permission.”</p>
<p>He could hear other people now, an answering murmur, louder and more excitable. Aleksander felt the anger again, the sudden need to do <em>something</em>, even though he knew nothing would work. He wasn’t physically here – he couldn’t call his power, couldn’t do anything to give these people what they deserved. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so helpless.</p>
<p>“But that’s for us to discuss when you’re back,” he said. “I’m working on it, Alina. I’m sorry it’s not moving any faster. Soon. I promise I will find you, do you hear me?”</p>
<p>It all seemed so cheap, so useless. Words meant nothing in such situations. Whatever small help his presence might be was nothing compared to the reality of the situation; the knowledge that they couldn’t remain like this forever hung over them like a physical weight, and while Aleksander was tempted to just stay by her side constantly he knew it was unrealistic. It left him vulnerable – back in Os Alta he would be slumped over a sofa, his eyes glazed and unfocused and seeing nothing that might approach him. It was a risk he was willing to take on impulse alone, but practicality would have to win out in the end.</p>
<p>Svetlana was close enough that Aleksander could now make her out in almost regular detail; she seemed to shift as she moved, not unlike how the <em>nichevo’ya</em> appeared as they moved through shadow, but Aleksander could make her out clearly enough to see her lips moving, and with what he could make out from her voice it was enough that he was able to follow her words.</p>
<p>“Don’t you see?” she asked Alina, her voice like a corruption of a mother’s concern. “It’s all about purification. Fire is purifying. Water is purifying.” She slipped a hand into her pocket and pulled something out; Aleksander had to squint to focus on what it was, his head beginning to ache with the effort of focusing when everything around him constantly shivered and jumped. What he saw didn’t answer many of his questions – it was just a small pouch – but Svetlana soon answered them for him. “Salt is also purifying.”</p>
<p>Aleksander looked sharply at Svetlana, as though he were the one she was addressing; as though he might be able to ask her if she was serious. Beside him Alina had looked at her too, her hitching breaths pausing as the realisation sunk in, the disbelief giving way to dread.</p>
<p>“Remember that it is all for your own good,” Svetlana said softly, and then she shook some of the salt onto her palm and pressed it to one of Alina’s burns.</p>
<p>Aleksander had heard plenty of people screaming in pain before. He had heard all the ways that scream could manifest – always pain laced with something else. In his circles it was usually fear or anger, the vein of it running through the scream and changing the sound. An angered scream of pain was different to a frightened one, and truth be told neither bothered Aleksander much. He had hardened his mind against such things a long time ago.</p>
<p>This was different. It wasn’t so much the fact that Aleksander cared about Alina; that the person screaming was someone he loved. He had loved others, in various ways, and some of them had met nasty ends. That must was nothing he hadn’t heard before. It was what was cutting through the scream that made it unbearable to hear.</p>
<p>Betrayal. Alina screamed as though the entire world had turned its back on her.</p>
<p>The world around him fractured, great cracks appearing in the surrounding fog. There was nothing but whiteness behind them, and Aleksander tried with all his strength to hold on as the image began to disintegrate. It was no use – it took two of them to maintain the connection, and Alina could focus on nothing other than the pain. Aleksander held on for as long as he could, repeating over and over that he would come back, he would come back as soon as he could, though how much of it Alina heard he couldn’t be sure. Then there was nothing but cold, that rushing wind and flashes of colour, and Aleksander slammed back into his physical body with enough force that he slumped off the sofa and onto the floor, his breathing ragged, his heart racing.</p>
<p>Dust filtered through the light above him, appearing and disappearing as it made its way through the shafts of sunlight breaking in through gaps in the drawn curtains. Aleksander watched them for a long moment, trying to get his breathing and heartrate under control, oscillating wildly between cool calm and blinding anger. Finally he pulled himself to his feet, his mind finally settling on the anger. Unproductive, perhaps, and certainly dangerous, yes, but what else could he feel, having seen what he had seen? He could still hear Alina’s screaming in the back of his head; he no longer knew if it was a memory or if some part of him perhaps remained there, rooted to the spot, helpless, useless to her. His breath hitched again and he forced himself to move, unsteady as he crossed the room and pulled the door open.</p>
<p>Mikhail jumped away from it, wearing the guilty look of one who had just had his ear pressed to the door. He must have been concentrating hard, Aleksander thought, to have not sensed his getting closer, but Aleksander could hardly blame him. Rarely was his heartrate this elevated; Mikhail had probably been genuinely concerned about his safety.</p>
<p>“I need to see the monk,” Aleksander muttered, stepping out into to cool of the marbled hallway. “Go and find Peter. I may have use of the two of you, should I tire myself out.”</p>
<p>Mikhail looked as though he wanted to ask for elaboration, but the boy had always had decent common sense. For that reason, he simply nodded and hurried off to see it done. It was something that Aleksander appreciated about all his Heartrenders – they knew when to ask questions and they knew when to get things done. He had often been judged by various <em>otkazat’sya</em> generals and officers and other military men of rank – they all seemed to believe that questions were not the right of their subordinates, but Aleksander disagreed. That there was a time and place for questions was undeniable, but how could one trust one’s subordinates if they didn’t have any of the answers? How could they operate independently if needed, if they had only a piece of the information and relied upon approval to take action? It seemed like a waste of time, in Aleksander’s eyes. Part of the reason his people obeyed him so unquestioningly was because they knew that the questions could be asked later – and that, if it was within Aleksander’s power to do so, he would give them a straight answer. It was another rule of power that so many <em>otkazat’sya</em> didn’t understand: if you wanted to keep it, sometimes you had to share it.</p>
<p>He wasn’t sure how much sharing of duties he was going to be doing that morning. He made it through the dungeons while barely even registering the fact, his body moving automatically as he rounded corners and hurried along damp halls. He could still feel his heart hammering in his chest and he was breathless by the time he approached Vasya’s cell, though it had nothing to do with excursion.</p>
<p>Aleksander hadn’t seen Vasya since he had left him to think things over with the <em>nichevo’ya</em>, and while the young man had proven painfully stubborn in that respect, it was the only place he had fared well. He looked exhausted now, slumped against the back wall of the cell and looking decidedly glum; there was a nervous twitching about him that had been present since his encounter with the <em>nichevo’ya</em>, and he seemed to react to things that Aleksander couldn’t hear. Vasya seemed surprised to look up and see somebody had actually approached his cell, and Aleksander had to wonder how many times he thought he heard or sensed somebody only to find that he was completely alone. The <em>nichevo’ya</em> had that effect on people, Aleksander had noticed. Even those who didn’t have to fear them seemed to be left with this kind of jumpy attitude, seeing things that weren’t actually there. Most people got used to their presence eventually, but Aleksander supposed some people were just of a more nervous disposition.</p>
<p>At his approached, Vasya tried to get to his feet, but Aleksander was too quick. He hadn’t even thought to locate a key, but that was no matter – they had plenty of spare cells. With a sharp slash of his hand the entire lock mechanism fractured in half, falling in two neat pieces to the floor; the wall directly opposite the door displayed a gash that was just as precise, several inches deep in the stone. Vasya looked first at the door and then at the wall, and quickly lost what little progress he had made in getting to his feet. He sat back on the floor with a heavy thump that must have been uncomfortable.</p>
<p>He didn’t remain there for long. Aleksander wrenched the ruined door open and cleared the cell in two strides; twisting his fists into the front of Vasya’s clothing, he hauled the man upright with strength that obviously surprised him and slammed him back against the wall with enough force that the air left him in a pained grunt.</p>
<p>“You’ve had plenty of time to think,” Aleksander growled, “and I have no patience for stubbornness. Tell me where your bitch priestess is hiding out, or start losing body parts.”</p>
<p>Vasya had the good sense to look afraid. Faith could only get a person so far, Aleksander had found – the idiot boy might still decide to be stubborn on principle, but faith could not shield from fear.</p>
<p>“I’m sure I can guess what you’re thinking,” Aleksander continued. “You’re probably thinking that it’s a great thing to die for such a noble cause, and that everything can be endured if you have faith, and that the mercy of death will protect you from any consequences. You would be quite wrong. I am not known for being merciful.”</p>
<p>Vasya swallowed hard and shook his head; words still seemed to be beyond him.</p>
<p>“How do you think you would fare?” Aleksander asked. “How do you think your life would be, if I left you with no eyes? No tongue? No hands or feet? Perhaps I wouldn’t stop there. Do you have anyone to look after you, Vasya? If I dumped you at the feet of your brothers and sister, helpless and ruined, would they care for you or would they shun you? Would they see you as a brother, or would they only see my mark all over you? The <em>nichevo’ya</em> leave horrific scars, Vasya. It would be undeniable what had happened; who had done it to you. Would you be able to show your face in their circles again, if it were threaded with shadow?”</p>
<p>Vasya had gone very still, watching Aleksander with wide eyes. There was doubt there; Aleksander could see it, and he smiled.</p>
<p>“You don’t trust them, do you?” he asked quietly. “You hear what I’m saying and you know they would shun you. Why are you risking all of this for them, Vasya? Why are you doing so much for people who would do so little in return?”</p>
<p>For a long moment Vasya seemed to fumble for words, and then he swallowed again, his eyes hardening.</p>
<p>“I’m not doing this for them,” he said, his voice frustratingly even. “I’m doing this for my Saint.”</p>
<p>With one smooth movement Aleksander hauled him away from the wall and to the floor. Vasya landed hard, yelping in pain, but recovered quickly enough to use his feet to push himself quickly backwards as Aleksander approached.</p>
<p>“They’re torturing her,” Aleksander said lowly, barely keeping his words steady. “Is that how you treat your Saint?”</p>
<p>“It is only to erase your corruption,” Vasya said, recovering some of his earlier enthusiasm. It was always the same with zealots – they seemed to get such a suicidal kick out of defying those they saw as heretical, and Aleksander supposed that Vasya couldn’t have gotten a better prize than him. “It’s to erase all traces of you. Whatever you’ve done to her, whatever control you have over her – we will erase you bit by bit.”</p>
<p>Aleksander drove his foot into Vasya’s side hard enough that he heard a sharp crack. Vasya gave a strained gasp, but the brightness in his eyes didn’t fade.</p>
<p>“Try it,” Aleksander spat. “Do you want her to hate you?”</p>
<p>“If that’s what’s necessary,” Vasya said, sounding a little shorter of breath. “Many people have been hated for doing the right thing.”</p>
<p>“Tell me about it,” Aleksander said. “You will be the ones to make a monster of her.”</p>
<p>He remembered again that undercut of betrayal in Alina’s scream – the kind of scream only somebody at odds with the universe could make. Alina had seen horror before, Aleksander knew – and to his regret some of it had been thanks to him – but she had never reacted like that before; she had never seemed so <em>confused</em>. For the first time, she was learning what the world could do to her simply because she had been born the way she was, and Aleksander knew the same kind of scream had probably left the lips of many before her, Grisha that Aleksander hadn’t managed to protect, hadn’t been around to save.</p>
<p><em>All for nothing</em>, he thought bitterly. <em>If you can’t save her, what was the point in any of it?</em></p>
<p>“You’re going to tell me where your priestess is,” Aleksander said quietly, stepping closer to Vasya. Vasya pressed himself up against the wall, one hand clutching his side, but could go no further. “You’re going to tell me, and then perhaps I might show mercy. Do you still think that death is the worst way this can end?”</p>
<p>“Suffering is always bearable if it’s for a cause,” Vasya said.</p>
<p>“Vasya,” Aleksander sighed, “I’m starting to think you <em>want</em> me to hurt you.”</p>
<p>Vasya said nothing, but his eyes were still clear and bright, focused on Aleksander with burning intensity. Aleksander met the gaze and gave a thin smile.</p>
<p>“At least I know where to start,” he said.</p>
<p>Vasya gave a brief frown of concern, but managed to hold himself still even as Aleksander reached out, fist clenched. Shadows clung to his hand, and when he opened his fist they pooled darker than ever, gathering like thick oil. Vasya’s breath caught in his throat as the shadows shifted, flowing from Aleksander’s hand, but instead of falling towards the ground they travelled through the air instead, shimmering in the light from the lamps and then splitting into two distinct rows. Vasya shifted back against the wall, not that it provided much more distance, never looking away from them as they hovered momentarily in front of his face.</p>
<p>Aleksander held them for a moment, and then drove them into Vasya’s eyes in one neat, decisive movement.</p>
<p>Vasya howled, immediately pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. He hunched forward, his broken ribs forgotten, his breath ragged and panicked, and Aleksander leaned down and grabbed his wrists, wrenching his hands away. Vasya’s eyes were nothing but black pits, no movement visible at all even though Aleksander knew Vasya would be looking wildly around the room as though he could spot the trick.</p>
<p>“Look all you want,” Aleksander told him, and Vasya started slightly, not expecting his voice from so close. “There is no trick. Let’s see how brave you are in the dark. Can your Saint’s light find you here, Vasya?”</p>
<p>“This isn’t—you can’t—you shouldn’t be able—”</p>
<p>“Do not presume to know what I can do,” Aleksander snapped, letting go and stepping away. “Remember that what I take away, I can give back. Perhaps keep that in mind when thinking about your answers.”</p>
<p>He felt something shift far behind him, figures moving through the shadows. He waited, hearing footsteps approaching a moment later; Vasya noticed them, too, and Aleksander supposed his other senses were driving him insane trying to make up for the lack of sight. He watched the young man try to move, but he seemed unwilling to leave his corner while not knowing where anything was – the walls of his cell, so familiar a moment ago, had suddenly become alien to him.</p>
<p>“Who is that?” he asked, a waver of fear in his voice. “Who—”</p>
<p>“Shut up,” Aleksander snapped, and Vasya jumped again.</p>
<p>Mikhail and Peter rounded the corner, both of them immediately noticing the wrecked door of the cell. Peter raised his eyebrows and Mikhail let out a low whistle as he saw Vasya cowering on the floor, still pressing at his eyes as though he didn’t yet believe it.</p>
<p>“Still being uncooperative is he, <em>moi soverenyi</em>?” Mikhail asked, as Aleksander stepped out of the cell.</p>
<p>“Apparently basic common sense still eludes him,” he replied. “A quick word.”</p>
<p>They moved back out into the damp hallway, walking a dozen feet from the alcove. They could hear Vasya’s hitched breathing; now that he had slightly more privacy, he was no longer bothering to hide the whimpers that punctuated them. Aleksander didn’t think he would try anything stupid like attempting to crawl away, but if he did Aleksander thought he would be generous enough to let him get some distance before he sent the <em>nichevo’ya</em> to drag him back.</p>
<p>“He isn’t going to talk,” Aleksander said quietly. “We can go through the motions of trying to make him, on the off chance, but he isn’t going to.”</p>
<p>“So what’s the new plan?” Peter asked.</p>
<p>“We need to get him to a point where he sees any offer I make him as a mercy,” Aleksander replied. “Where he won’t think too much about the trap I’ll set him. We get him to agree to a perceived offer of mercy, we strongarm a favour out of him in return. Nothing too large – he’s too devout to be a spy. Perhaps a message to be conveyed. We let him run, and we tail him. Even if he isn’t stupid enough to go right back home, we’ll have a clue – who he goes to for shelter and food, where he might disappear. It will be more than we’ll get from him this way. He seems determined to be a martyr.”</p>
<p>“And you won’t give that to him,” Mikhail said, smiling.</p>
<p>“No,” Aleksander said. “I plan to give that to none of them. To be a martyr there needs to be somebody to remember your sacrifice; remember your name. I will only kill these people when I’m quite sure I can get all of them at once. But for now, business as usual.”</p>
<p>Mikhail’s smile widened, and Peter cracked his knuckles.</p>
<p><em>Zealots</em>, Aleksander thought irritably, as the Heartrenders slipped around him and headed back to the cell. <em>At least they’re good for one thing, and that’s being predictable</em>.</p>
<p>He could leave Peter and Mikhail to it, he knew. There were other things that probably demanded his more immediate attention, and ordinarily he would adhere to priorities. This time he allowed himself to ignore them. He could still hear Alina’s screaming, trapped somewhere in the back of his mind; he needed to hear someone else’s for a while.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next couple of days were spent in a haze of pain.</p>
<p>Alina had never known something to hurt so much. She had been burned before, but that had only been minor things – catching herself on something hot while cooking, or that one time when she had been nine and she had fallen asleep in the sun, and when she had woken up her shoulders and the back of her neck had been angry and red. She had thought she’d known pain then, whimpering to herself in the bathroom in the dead of night, a cool towel draped over her shoulders, but now she would have given anything to have those burns back instead.</p>
<p>For the first day they left her in her cell, and Alina saw nobody. She was glad for it; she didn’t have the energy to see anyone, and she didn’t think she would be able to look them in the face. She felt so desperately sorry for herself and there was a sense of shame in that – she didn’t know why she felt so betrayed by it all, but she did. Perhaps she had been naïve in assuming that they would hold her captive but not harm her; really she should have known something was wrong the moment Svetlana had struck her in the face. Alina had managed to convince herself otherwise, though, telling herself that Svetlana had been angry, that it had been an impulsive thing. Alina had run her mouth enough times as a child to know that a backhand or a smack with the switch wasn’t an uncommon reaction when somebody was pushed too far, but it had been different when it had been between two adults. Had Svetlana looked shocked or ashamed when she had done it? Alina didn’t think she had.</p>
<p>Even so, there had been something that was easier to deal with about that one single strike. It had been between the two of them, it had been private, nobody had been watching and nobody had commented. It had been one sudden burst of pain and then some soreness and discomfort – it wasn’t this agony, leaving her breathing heavily and sweating on the floor, her body trembling with the pain. She couldn’t move without the pain increasing, without the nauseating sensation of the leaking blisters rubbing against the collar – and they had <em>watched</em>! They had all <em>watched</em>! She had been screaming for them to stop, <em>begging</em> them to stop, and everyone had just watched!</p>
<p>By the second day her shock and self-pity had turned to a numb kind of disbelief. The pain was still excruciating but it came from somewhere beyond her; when she felt twinges of it a flicker of annoyance passed through her, frustration directed towards her body for having the audacity to be harmed. She should be stronger than this. She knew she should be – it wasn’t becoming of her, to be curled up like this, whimpering with the pain and not even being aware of it. She was quite sure Aleksander wouldn’t act so pathetically in the same situation, and she wanted to say that was because he was older, he had more practise with the horrific, but she knew this was not something someone got used to. Perhaps Aleksander was just stronger than her, then? Or perhaps he just had more dignity. She let out a wet laugh at that – he would probably be disgusted with her, if he could see her now. Perhaps that was why she had ignored the pull when she had felt it; she didn’t want him to see her like this. She wanted to be strong for him, she wanted him to see her injured but stoic, dealing with it, remaining useful to him. She would gather herself, she thought, and then she would let him come to her.</p>
<p>At some point on the second day she was able to force herself up, her body familiar enough with the pain now that the thirst had hit her again, the hunger with it. It had been another two days since she had had anything to drink, and she hadn’t been fed since she had got here – an entire week, or just over. Granted she hadn’t been in a state to eat for half of that time, but Alina was feeling the full extent of it now she was so injured. Her body was weak, her limbs trembling, her headache back in full force. The burns, when she twisted her head to look at them, looked angry and infected already. She should have known they would get infected, really. Burns almost always did, to some extent, and she wasn’t exactly in a clean environment. The collar rubbed constantly against the wounds, keeping them from making any progress healing, and she had been sweating with the pain.</p>
<p><em>Do something, then</em>, she told herself. <em>At least </em>try<em> to help yourself!</em></p>
<p>She had been about to consider what it was she could even do with no clean water and no bandages, but then there had been a step on the stone outside and Matvey came into her cell. Without a word he leaned over her and pulled her to her feet; she forced herself not to cry out with the pain, but she bit on her lip so hard in order to prevent herself that she opened the cut Svetlana had left again, blood dripping warm and sickly down her chin and over her teeth. Matvey kept his grip on her as he steered her from the cell, and Alina could do nothing but blindly follow. Every movement made her headache worse, the nausea unbearable; every slight shift of her arms as Matvey pulled her along drove the burns against the collar, and Alina could feel how disgusting the burns must be, open and leaking. She was sure she would throw up, had she anything in her stomach to tempt her.</p>
<p>Vaguely she recognised the passages around her; she could feel the slightly fresher air from the large cavern she had been in before, the river making the air seem somehow cleaner. Impulsively she reached for her power again, focusing on the river, trying to see if she could follow it to where it entered or left the cave system, but it was too far away – there was nothing.</p>
<p><em>If only you’d had the decency to be born a really powerful Inferni</em>, she thought bitterly, as they entered the vast room, lit with its hundreds of lamps.</p>
<p>It seemed her mind could only conceive of one immediate thought at a time, because it was only when she saw Svetlana and the assembled congregation that the implications caught up to her. She twisted against Matvey’s grip, but between his strength and her exhaustion it was a futile attempt and she was quite unsurprised when it got her nowhere.</p>
<p>“Don’t,” she said desperately, turning to try and look at him despite how the movement made the collar dig into one of the burns. “Matvey, she’s a monster. You know this.”</p>
<p>Matvey looked at her for a moment, his gaze neutral, and then turned his eyes ahead again. Alina sighed. She didn’t know what she had expected, or why she had bothered in the first place. Maybe it was the way Matvey reminded her of Tolya. Maybe she was just looking for an ally where there really was none at all.</p>
<p>“Sankta,” Svetlana said as they drew level with her, the picture of respectful concern. “How was your day of rest and reflection?”</p>
<p>It took her words a moment to break through the tired haze of Alina’s brain, and then she couldn’t help but laugh.</p>
<p>“Wonderful,” she croaked, her throat painfully dry again.</p>
<p>“Did you think any more about what we have to say?” Svetlana asked, tilting her head slightly. “Or are you still clinging to your delusions?”</p>
<p><em>Play the game,</em> Alina thought suddenly.</p>
<p>“I… can see your concerns,” she said, and Svetlana raised an eyebrow in surprise. “I can. I don’t pretend to agree,  but I can understand where they come from. I’m just confused.”</p>
<p>“Confused over what, Sankta?”</p>
<p>“Your methods,” Alina said. “I don’t appreciate such cruelty. I don’t see how it can encourage anything but resentment. If you are my friends, how can I resent you?”</p>
<p>“We are here to serve you before we are ever here as your friends, Sankta,” Svetlana said, “though it touches us to know you wish to think of us as both. The answer, however, is simple. Have you have strayed wrong as a child and had your knuckles rapped in response? Have you ever seen a soldier disobey, or act inappropriately, and be forced to run laps around the unit on its march? You have to be cruel to be kind. Hard work and suffering is wonderful for rehabilitation. This is a known fact. When the body is pushed to extremes, it puts things into perspective. Why do you think the Heretic never hurts you? He doesn’t want you to see the monster he is.”</p>
<p>Alina shook her head slowly, wincing at the spike of pain behind her eyes. “You mistake me for a tougher woman than I am, Priestess. I was usually led into trouble as a child, and I was never very militarily minded. When I was a girl I was told I had the makings of a law woman about me, if I could only stop being so timid. I respond much better to facts and argument.”</p>
<p>“The problem with facts and argument,” Svetlana said, seeming genuinely sympathetic, “is that they can be overwritten by somebody with a cleverer tongue. I don’t pretend that I am anywhere near the level of persuasion of the Heretic. He has had far more practise than I, and he knows the art of manipulation. Hasn’t he been whispering into the ears of kings for the last four hundred years? And look where it got them!”</p>
<p>“Trust me when I say the Lantsovs were digging their own graves,” Alina said. “But you are correct. In fact, had he not been doing so, Ravka would have fallen to enemies long ago. You recoil at the idea of him ruling, but he has been ruling since before your grandparents’ grandparents were born.”</p>
<p>Svetlana shook her head sadly. “And here I was thinking we were making progress.”</p>
<p>“Priestess,” Alina said firmly, before pausing in an attempt to find any moisture in her mouth. Talking was becoming impossible; it was already painful. “Like your loyalty is to me, you have to understand that my loyalty is to Grisha. That is what I <em>am</em>. You don’t understand because you’re not one of us, but the world is a cruel place for people like me. I will always align myself with those who seek to protect us. If you can’t trust me because you see me as repeating the words of a heretic, then believe me with this. I am Grisha. They are my people. If you believe in my holiness, you will trust me when I say I would do nothing to harm them.”</p>
<p> “You have so much to learn,” Svetlana said quietly, almost fondly. “The depths of divine love are still a mystery to you. We will make you understand, Sankta Alina. One day you will thank us for it, even if it is centuries after we are in our own graves.”</p>
<p>Alina had been braced for more pain, so it was a surprise when Matvey merely led her off to the side and stood with her. Alina felt horribly exposed up on the platform, with eyes still flickering to her constantly, lingering on her, but it was difficult to worry too much about it when she was forcing herself to concentrate on Svetlana’s every word, waiting to hear the cue that would begin whatever it was Alina would have to endure that day. Matvey no longer held her upright, but he stood close by, watching her as she struggled to remain on her feet, and it wasn’t until almost an hour had passed that Alina realised that Svetlana wasn’t interested in <em>her</em> that day; that she was simply preaching, endlessly from what Alina could tell, but that there was a certain kind of horror to being forced to remain on her feet for the entire time. Her body was exhausted, the pain from her various injuries and aches growing with every second she spent upright. Her headache had quickly become a migraine and the ground was unsteady beneath her feet, seeming to roll and tilt and her nausea with it. Svetlana’s sharp, quick words seemed to hammer themselves deeper into Alina’s skull, the low, droning agreements from the congregation adding to the pressure, and her body alternated between desperate need to throw herself into the river and drink until she threw up, to a deep, agonising hunger. She could feel herself swaying on her feet, sometimes to the extent that Matvey would have to reach out and steady her, and she found herself wishing he would just grab her again and save her the effort of trying to remain on her feet.</p>
<p>Her vision began to darken, great spots of black flickering across as she moved her eyes, trying to focus on them but finding they always danced out of her way. She felt far too hot, the heat radiating out from the burns at her collarbone, and she wished she had the energy to reach back and pull her hair away from her neck. Only minutes after thinking it she found she was cold, and somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she must have a fever; knew the wounds were probably more infected than she thought. The realisation didn’t bother her as much as it should have, and she stood there quite calmly, swaying on the spot and finding she was enjoying the fact that nothing seemed real anymore. She wasn’t even sure if Aleksander was real – she could see him, just in her peripheral vision, but whether or not she had reached out to him again or if it was just the fever she couldn’t tell. She didn’t have the chance to work it out, either – suddenly Svetlana was no longer talking, and the congregation were shuffling away in their different directions, and Matvey was walking Alina across the stone stage and towards the passage again. When Alina managed to move her head, only doing so because Matvey was there to stop her immediately hitting the floor again, she saw that Aleksander was gone.</p>
<p>She expected to return to her cell, but Matvey led her down several more side passages and came instead to another room. It was longer but just as narrow as her cell, perhaps the length of five of them, though half of it was in too much shadow to make anything out clearly. Alina could see what she thought was some kind of shelving, but she was too tired and dazed to pay much attention. She simply sat where Matvey put her – at a wooden bench that was pushed next to a table that looked much like the one in the kitchen when she was younger, where the cooks would sit and chat and peel vegetables and sometimes sneak her little bites of things here and there, when Mal had been away or busy and Alina had been hiding from the other children, hating to see them together when she was so lonely.</p>
<p>She was lonely now. She hadn’t realised she was crying. She reached out and touched the table’s wooden surface, feeling its roughness, the little nicks and grooves. It could almost be the same one.</p>
<p>“Why are you crying, Sankta?”</p>
<p>Svetlana had sat down opposite her, and Alina hadn’t noticed. She wasn’t even surprised to find her voice so close; everything felt dreamlike, and Alina found herself unbothered by it all.</p>
<p>“It reminds me of where I grew up,” she said quietly.</p>
<p>“Of home?”</p>
<p>“No,” Alina said. “Just where I grew up.”</p>
<p>“You don’t see that as your home?”</p>
<p>“An orphan doesn’t have a home, Priestess.”</p>
<p>“It must have been lonely for you.”</p>
<p>“Sometimes,” Alina said. She wasn’t so dazed that she was going to share Mal with this woman. “But it seems so long ago now. I suppose it won’t matter eventually.”</p>
<p>She found herself looking forward to it, sometimes. At first, when Aleksander had told her that she would forget her childhood, that she would forget everything about her early life and Mal along with it, she had been horrified. She had lay awake in their cramped room at the boarding house in Novyi Zem, watching Mal’s face as he slept, memorising every part of it, every line, every hair and lash and scar. She had told herself over and over that she would remember him, that she would never forget him, even after he had been dead a thousand years and she was still as young and alive as she ever was. Had she thought that way because she believed it, or because she had been acting in defiance? It had all the desperation of defiance, and none of the calm of faith.</p>
<p>Now she had accepted that Aleksander was right, she found the thought was a comfort. What had happened between her and Mal was for the best – he would never understand her, <em>could</em> never understand her, and severing things now was better than a few decades of lies before she spent more of her life without him than with him. But it still hurt. She hadn’t just said goodbye to a person. It had been goodbye to who she was, to who she had wanted to become, to the life she had hoped she would have. She wasn’t dissatisfied with the life she could now expect, and she knew that it was the best thing for her – she had been born this way, and she could sooner deny her power than ask the universe to rearrange the constellations – but it hurt. It <em>hurt</em>. Sometimes the only thing that kept her from collapsing under the pain completely was the fact that time soothed everything. Some people insisted that was impossible, of course – that some pain couldn’t ever grow duller. Alina had asked Aleksander about it once, and he had only smiled and said that the people who said such things had a century to work with at the most generous.</p>
<p><em>Pain is the danger of decades</em>, he had said. <em>No pain can survive the ages.</em></p>
<p>This wouldn’t matter, either, Alina realised. Perhaps it would for a while, for a regular lifetime – but what about when she was Aleksander’s age? Would she still think of Svetlana then? Would she still feel the burns at her collarbone, smell flesh burning? The thought gave her a brief surge of hope, a sudden and fleeting conviction that it would be alright, that she could endure, but then the pain in her head throbbed again and she was pulled back to the present, realising that until she had escaped from this place, the thought would do her no good at all.</p>
<p>“Here,” Svetlana said, and Alina realised she was holding a cup to her lips. She tried to grab it, but Svetlana drew back, shaking her head. “You need to drink it slowly. I won’t be able to trust you to do so.”</p>
<p>“Not a child,” Alina croaked, as Svetlana put the cup to her lips again.</p>
<p>“You would make yourself sick,” Svetlana said, “and then you would only feel worse. Sip.”</p>
<p>Ordinarily Alina would have protested as a matter of dignity, but her thirst wouldn’t let her even consider the idea. The smell of cool water right under her nose was too much; she sipped obediently, enduring the moments when Svetlana moved the cup away again with a kind of impatience she had never experienced before. She clenched her fists in her lap, trying to think of anything other than throwing herself across the table and grabbing the cup from Svetlana.</p>
<p>The only thing that distracted her from such thoughts was the bread that Matvey put down in front of her. There was only a single slice, and it was without any kind of spread, but Alina thought it was perhaps the most delicious thing she had ever laid eyes on. She looked at Svetlana in disbelief, barely able to accept it when Svetlana nodded.</p>
<p>“<em>Slowly</em>,” she warned her. “Small bites.”</p>
<p>Alina thought that would be impossible, but she soon saw the sense of it. Her mouth was still drier than she would have liked, and the bread, though freshly baked, was a challenge. She had to eat miniscule bites, holding the bread in her mouth for a few moments before chewing it. It hurt to swallow, and she was sure she could already feel the weight of it in her otherwise empty stomach. Suddenly she was terrified that she would throw up – what a waste it would be. The thought almost brought frightened tears to her eyes, but she forced herself to calm down, to eat slowly, to sip the water. She would not cry over a slice of bread.</p>
<p>“Is… is the starving part of the idea?” she asked, mainly so she had something to distract her while she waited for the previous bite to settle – she was scared she would shove the whole thing into her mouth otherwise. “Purification, or is it more… meditation, I guess?”</p>
<p>“Both,” Svetlana replied, “though it’s a more conventional means. I think perhaps every monk or priest in the country has fasted at one point or another. It purges the body of everything, makes it hollow and empty. It allows for greater and higher thought. Once you have endured through the hunger pains, you find things are very clear.”</p>
<p>“Will I… have to do it again?”</p>
<p>Svetlana laughed. “This will be your normal for now, Sankta. Only the bare minimum. You will understand soon enough.”</p>
<p>Alina fought the urge to sigh. It wasn’t the worst thing they could do, she thought. She had been hungry before. She had even been close to this hungry before – when she had been trekking though the northern mountains and taigas, living off of hard cheese and smoked meat. She had walked twenty miles a day then, and she had managed. She could manage this, though she knew it would be easier to endure without the threat of torture hanging over her. She had the sudden urge to ask Svetlana if she could just <em>warn</em> her when such things were on the agenda, but she managed to bite the words down. She could hear how pathetic they would sound without even having to say them.</p>
<p>All too soon the bread was gone, and Alina was left trying to subtly examine her fingers for signs of any crumbs. The food had made her tired, the kind of tired that had her head nodding where she sat, even as she tried to keep herself focused. She wondered if she would just be left to herself for the rest of the day and found herself hoping for it – the cell didn’t seem so threatening an idea when she knew she would actually sleep. Of course she should have known she couldn’t be so lucky.</p>
<p>“Well, Sankta?” Svetlana asked, rising to her feet. “Are you ready for the afternoon sermon?”</p>
<p>It occurred to Alina that she was expected to stand there for another several hours, while this exhausted and in this much pain, and suddenly she found herself fighting back tears. She hoped she had blinked them away fast enough, but it seemed luck was well and truly not on her side that day – Svetlana leaned over, patting her hand.</p>
<p>“It will get easier,” she said sincerely. “Once you allow yourself to accept the truth, you will find you have more strength in you than you realise.”</p>
<p>There was plenty that Alina wanted to say to that, but she didn’t have the strength to so much as shake her head in disagreement. Perhaps it was a good thing – she was constantly reminding herself that she was supposed to be coming around to their ideas, naturally and in a way that wouldn’t arouse suspicion, but often she found herself reacting before she could think about it. Exhaustion was her friend in that respect; she didn’t immediately jump to Aleksander’s defence as soon as they said something so utterly untrue about him, and she didn’t push back when she should be practising being meek. It was the smallest of silver linings, but Alina was beginning to realise she should really take what she could get.</p>
<p>“Come now,” Svetlana said, as Matvey approached to pull Alina to her feet. “We have little time to lose. We need to see to those burns of yours.”</p>
<p>“See to them?” Alina asked hesitantly. She didn’t think that Svetlana meant balm and bandages.</p>
<p>“Salt,” Svetlana said, a little too brightly for Alina’s liking. “Purifying <em>and</em> cleansing, Sankta. You don’t want a nasty infection.”</p>
<p>Alina winced as Matvey helped her up, the collar shifting against the wounds again. She felt a flicker of fear at the thought that within a few minutes this pain would feel like nothing at all, but she was too exhausted to allow the flicker to grow into anything more solid, and for some reason it made her feel utterly pathetic. The helplessness rushed in again, and as they stepped out into the passageway Alina felt the cooler air against the dampness on her cheeks.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After the initial chaos of setting up a network there was always an infuriating calm, and Aleksander’s days settled into a frustrating monotony. It was something he had expected, and dreaded with good reason, but even with the fact he had been prepared the lack of progress was maddening.</p>
<p>Yuri’s spies were well on their way, two of them already placed and two more heading further out, hoping to find devotees further from the capital. Tolya and Tamar were feeding him what information they could, though specific information about Svetlana was thin on the ground – most of Alina’s followers who had any measure of authority had plenty of speculation regarding Svetlana, and plenty of grievances to air, but nothing in the way of reliable information as to her current location. Aleksander’s own network of scouts were scattered far and wide but had come back with nothing so far, and Aleksander was hardly surprised – it was clear that Alina was hidden underground somewhere, and it was a known fact that Ravka’s underground networks were near endless. They made the system of catacombs snaking beneath Ketterdam look like nothing more than an amusing hedge maze a baron might landscape in his grounds for the entertainment of his grandchildren, and Aleksander had no clue how he was supposed to scout all of them. He had spent long hours over countless old maps in the library, but who knew how up-to-date they were? The tunnels would have only been added to over the centuries, and there was nothing saying that those ancient cartographers had seen even a fraction of the full system.</p>
<p>His main hope rested on Vasya. He had turned the boy loose almost a week ago now, and according to regular dispatches, Aleksander knew him to be heading north. That matched with what Alina had managed to tell him, about how there was very little damp where she was, indicating a colder and drier climate. Aleksander wasn’t surprised. They were always more fanatical in the north – he blamed it on the Fjerdan blood many of them no doubt carried somewhere in their family lines.</p>
<p>Perhaps the only advantage he had was that he was patient. Somehow he managed to endure the days, turning his attention to the countless other things he needed to do in any given twenty-four hours, and while the waiting might have driven a lesser man insane he found he was able to manage. Patience had never betrayed him before, but there was still a sense of running against the clock – something he was not used to. Every moment he had where his thoughts might be able to drift, they of course returned to Alina – and what all this time might mean for her.</p>
<p>He hadn’t been able to contact her often. Whenever he tried she was either unconscious or asleep, meaning that she couldn’t respond to the call, or she was too distressed to hold on to the tether for long. He had seen many glimpses of what was occurring that way, and none of them left him with any hope. It had been over a week since they had burned her; a couple of days afterwards Aleksander had been pulled to the first of those strange sermons, but he hadn’t been fully present and everything had been hazy. All he had been able to see was Alina, barely conscious as she swayed on her feet, and the room had felt as though it were breathing around him – first pulling away, then rushing back. Her mind must have been drifting to him enough that he was able to be present, but if she saw him she made no reaction.</p>
<p>That had happened almost every day now; it was the most consistent update he got. Every time he saw her she looked thinner, sicker. Her hold on him was so weak that Aleksander was able to keep one foot in the present moment; he had spent many a meeting half with Alina, that great cavernous room overlaying the halls and studies like some ghostly memory. Aleksander had grown used to living between the two worlds, exhausting as it was.</p>
<p>The morning had been no different, in that respect. He had woken from a couple of hours’ sleep and caught up with anything he might have missed – still no news, though Vasya had stopped heading north and was now tracking slightly east with less haste, implying he might be close to wherever it was he was going. Aleksander had spent several terse hours with various ministers and had finally managed to wrestle some funding from one or the other of them; perhaps ten minutes after the proceedings had begun he had felt himself drifting, and soon he could make out the high stone all around him, hear the river somewhere just beyond his view. Outwardly he remained engaged; inwardly he ran his eyes over Alina, trying to spot what had changed since the previous day. She looked somehow even worse, though Aleksander had stopped asking himself how that was possible long ago. Her cheekbones were prominent, the shadows under her eyes deep, her hair tangled and unkempt. Her clothing was beginning to fray, and those two nasty burns on her collarbone were beginning to scar, the skin distorted, parts of it still scabbed.</p>
<p>Things had progressed as normal until Aleksander realised that at some point, somebody had removed Alina’s kefta. She had definitely been wearing it at the beginning – he had remarked to himself how odd it was to see such a hardy piece of clothing beginning to <em>fray</em> – but now it was most definitely gone, leaving Alina in the thin white undershirt. She was shivering, and even through the clothing Aleksander could tell her ribs were jutting out; she looked every inch the starving solider that had first appeared in front of him those few years ago, skinny and shaking and gaunt. Aleksander devoted a little more of his attention to her, trying to see what might be going on, but Alina was starting to panic. Aleksander could feel her struggling more than he could see it; he tried to cling on to the connection, feeling his own panic rising as he realised he was losing his grip on it.</p>
<p><em>Alina!</em> he thought firmly, hoping that whatever part of him remained with her had been able to say the thoughts out loud. <em>Alina, hold </em>on<em>!</em></p>
<p>It was no good – the fading image of the room vanished, leaving Aleksander disjointed and, he realised, furious. He noticed he was clenching his fists, one in his lap and the other on the table; the shadows in the room had responded, snaking over walls and the floor, pooling at his feet and twisting around his chair. Aleksander looked up and found a half-dozen faces staring back at him, pale and anxious, the silence in the room the kind that came only from those who thought they were in immediate trouble of their own doing.</p>
<p>Aleksander couldn’t have even told them what they had just said.</p>
<p>There were several things he could have done. He could have dismissed them, or he could have made his excuses. As it happened he couldn’t bring himself to do either. There was a question in each of those faces – they would never dare to ask it, but he could see it there all the same. It had been there many times since the news of Alina’s disappearance had leaked out, and it had been growing worse every day. Aleksander had even seen it in the faces of servants, in the eyes of the stable boys – the same question, over and over. <em>How did you let it happen?</em></p>
<p>“Well?” Aleksander suddenly snapped. “Out with it.”</p>
<p>There was an outbreak of vague mumbling, during which Aleksander could make out several phrases, most of which consisted of something along the lines of noticing that he seemed <em>distracted</em>.</p>
<p>“Unsurprising,” he said, finding he had reached his limits of diplomacy for that day. “I have a million and one other things to worry about and I have to spend a not insignificant portion of my day listening to you fools haggle over kopeks. Do you not realise what kind of a threat we have lurking at both our borders – and within them? I have half a mind to seize all your assets and skip this nonsense.”</p>
<p>“You can’t do that!” one of the Lords managed to splutter, after several seconds of vaguely outraged noises had been heard.</p>
<p>“Would you like to bet on that, Lord Rinsky?” Aleksander asked.</p>
<p>“There’s no law allowing you to do that!”</p>
<p>“I could make one,” Aleksander said. “Or perhaps I would save myself some time and kill you right now? You have no heirs, Lord Rinsky. Upon your death everything goes back to the crown which, if you’ve been paying attention, you will realise is <em>me</em>. Now, are you idiots going to sign the budget, or do I have to start dissolving family lines?”</p>
<p>“<em>Moi soverenyi</em>,” said Lord Karanov – younger, and judging from the care in which he addressed Aleksander, perhaps still in possession of a few of his braincells. No doubt he hadn’t had time to drink them all away with the rest of the old boys’ gang – he had ascended to the Lordship only after the King had been deposed, inheriting it when both his father and older brother had been torn apart by <em>nichevo’ya</em> at then-Prince Nikolai’s birthday celebrations. “I understand the gravity of the situation, but surely you must know that the older Lords don’t do well with being pushed. I would hate for any of them to do anything stupid.”</p>
<p>“You little traitor, Karanov,” said Rinsky. “Is he the kind of person you’d like to do a deal with?”</p>
<p>“What choice do we have?” Karanov snapped. “Out of all of us, he seems to be the only person concerned with the fact that we’re facing invasion at both of our land borders. Personally that’s something I’m rather worried about, myself.”</p>
<p>“There has never been an issue with negotiation before,” Rinsky said haughtily. “It cannot break down over such petty reasoning!”</p>
<p>“What petty reasoning is that, Lord Rinsky?” Aleksander asked.</p>
<p>His tone almost bordered on sweet, and only two people in the room saw it for what it was. Lord Karanov paled and edged his seat away from the table, and Peter, standing guard at Aleksander’s side, frowned and began to find his shoes of utmost interest.</p>
<p><em>How interesting</em>, Aleksander thought. <em>All this company I find myself in, and only two of them have brains.</em></p>
<p>Lord Rinsky, of course, was oblivious.</p>
<p>“Why, that you’re letting a foul mood interfere!” he said indignantly. “You have to bring a clear mind to these things, for Saints’ sake. If all of us acted like this every time a girl gave us the slip, why, we’d be—”</p>
<p>The rest of his words broke off in gargled choking; for a second his eyes remained alert, widening slightly in surprise, and then his head along with his neck and right shoulder simply slid off his body and thudded to the ground. The remaining torso slumped forward, the blood pumping onto the surface of the desk for several beats before slowing. The smell of metal filled the room; the Lord closest to the corpse looked slowly down at the floor beside him and retched.</p>
<p>Aleksander lowered his hand.</p>
<p>“Upon looking over the budget again, I’ve discovered some funds have been freed up,” he said conversationally. “All suggestions passed. Meeting concluded; you are dismissed.”</p>
<p>The Lords couldn’t clear the room past enough. Only the poor soul closest to Rinsky remained motionless; Karanov paused after a few steps, looking back at him, and then shook his head and stepped over, hauling the man to his feet.</p>
<p>“Come on, old boy,” he said. “Don’t look so shocked. What did he expect?”</p>
<p>Aleksander remained still until the door had closed behind the last of them, and then he slumped back in his seat, running his hand through his hair.</p>
<p>“Has some brains, that Karanov,” he muttered. “He might be useful yet.”</p>
<p>“<em>Moi soverenyi</em>,” Peter said carefully. “That was… unusual for you.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps I’m not as patient as I thought.”</p>
<p>“Earlier in the meeting, you seemed distressed. Your heartrate…”</p>
<p>Aleksander nodded vaguely. It was no use trying to keep the fact that something unusual was occurring from his Heartrenders, even if he hadn’t been specific with them. Still, they seemed to have worked out the vague idea, which was why Aleksander wasn’t surprised when Peter next spoke.</p>
<p>“Something is wrong with Alina, <em>moi soverenyi</em>? Something out of the ordinary, I mean.”</p>
<p>“It appears that way,” Aleksander said, drumming his fingers against the arm of the chair.</p>
<p>“I could ensure nobody disturbs you, if you need a moment.”</p>
<p>“I think that would be wise.”</p>
<p>Peter nodded, and Aleksander listened to his footsteps move across the room and to the door. The room seemed even emptier than usual after he had gone – emptier than it usually did when Aleksander found himself alone, but he had noticed that strange effect of being in a room with a corpse. Being in a room alone carried with it at the very least his own presence; being in a room with just a dead body for company seemed to negate the effect of his own life and make the room seem utterly barren.</p>
<p>“Old fool,” Aleksander muttered, looking in the vague direction of the corpse’s head, and then he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, trying to find anything to grab on to.</p>
<p>It took him longer than he would have liked. The connection was inconsistent, there and suddenly gone again, never the same strength or intensity. He had to focus with all his effort to be ready for it; by the time he was able to throw himself after it he had the beginnings of a headache, and for a moment he was sure he would lose his grip again. The room around him flickered and warped, occasionally leaving him in nothingness before it rematerialized again; Aleksander felt nauseous as he forced himself to move, seeking out the one place where everything remained still.</p>
<p>Their eyes locked, and Aleksander felt the room stabilise. He was able to make it to Alina’s side before her eyes glazed over again and the room pitched dangerously; this time he reached out and touched her, and everything snapped into focus.</p>
<p>Alina’s back was raw and bloody. Despite the shock Aleksander recognised the wounds for what they were immediately – a whip had done this, opening Alina’s back like she was some common village thief. Even then the punishment would have been deemed too barbaric; this was no five or ten lashes. Through the blood Aleksander could see raw flesh, ragged tears in the skin and muscle, and Alina was kneeling in a pool of it, red against the grey stone. She was slumped over, her hands resting in the blood, her breathing laboured and unsteady. Her eyes darted around rapidly, but when they passed Aleksander she barely saw him.</p>
<p>“No,” Aleksander said quietly. He reached out, pressing his finger against one of the trickles of blood, but it didn’t respond and his finger stayed clean.</p>
<p>A footstep close to him; Aleksander had expected to see Svetlana there, expected to see the whip in her hand, dripping blood in small, perfect dots onto the stone, but he hadn’t expected the intensity of the hatred that flooded him. It was enough to make the room shift even as he kept his hand on Alina, and he forced himself to focus. The hatred did not leave him easily, even with the promise made to it that it would have its moment.</p>
<p><em>I will kill you last,</em> he thought, focusing on Svetlana, trying to push all of the hatred at her in the hope she might actually feel it. <em>I will kill you slowest.</em></p>
<p>Something must have registered – the serene expression on her face briefly faltered, her eyebrows knitting as her eyes passed over the space Aleksander was kneeling. She started, only slightly, but enough to earn a questioning look from Matvey – had she seen him? The outline, maybe, or perhaps the sense of him. She stared for a moment longer, and then forced the confusion from her face and turned back to Alina.</p>
<p>“Come, now,” she said softly. “Are you still going to try and tell me that it doesn’t feel better?”</p>
<p>“Please,” Alina gasped. Her voice was the sort of hoarse that could only come from screaming. “Please, I can’t—”</p>
<p>“Shh,” Svetlana said. “I know it’s a lot, but you have to understand.”</p>
<p>“Please stop,” Alina whispered. “Please. I can’t do it anymore, I’ll do anything, just don’t hurt me anymore—<em>please</em> don’t hurt me anymore, I can’t—I’m so scared, I’m so—<em>please</em> don’t—”</p>
<p>“Shh,” Svetlana said again, and Alina broke off, her breath coming in a hitched sob. “That’s enough for today. We have been praying for you the entire time, and now you must reflect.”</p>
<p>Aleksander glanced up, and this time he could make out the congregation, the open, awed faces. He could read everything on those faces – the ecstasy, the belief that what they were doing was actually <em>correct</em>, and the only way he managed to control the hatred this time was by forcing himself to look carefully at every face, memorise every feature.</p>
<p>“I will,” Alina said quickly. “I will, I promise, just don’t—”</p>
<p>Matvey leaned down and pulled her to her feet then; Alina shrieked with the pain, and Aleksander found himself back in the meeting room, the smell of metal heavy in the air. He wasn’t sure how much of it was real, and how much he had carried back with him. He sat for a long moment, his chest tight, his breaths heaving; for a wild moment he was sure he would lose his grip on himself. He could feel his power burning below the surface, desperate to do something, but with nothing to attack it had nowhere to go. He sat rigidly still, focusing on his breathing, only trusting himself to relax when the shadows had calmed, had stopped circling him in a frenzy, ready to draw life at any moment. Finally he ran a hand through his hair and got to unsteady feet, walking across the room and out into the hallway still feeling as though he were half in a dream.</p>
<p>Peter looked at him, a brief flash of alarm passing over his face before the look turned questioning.</p>
<p>“Find me Duke and Duchess Pevskaya,” he said. “Send them to my study and then find the rest of your unit. I need you to organise a small division for immediate travel.”</p>
<p>Peter gave a slight bow of his head. “<em>Moi soverenyi</em>.”</p>
<p>Aleksander barely remembered making his way to his study, only the relief when he shut the door behind him and had a moment to breathe. The room was pleasantly dark and cool, the heavy curtains still drawn, and for several minutes he sat in his chair with his eyes closed, trying to ground himself. He only reluctantly roused himself when he felt movement in the hall outside; within a moment there was a knock at the door and the Duke and Duchess entered, curiosity plain on their faces.</p>
<p>“Sit down,” Aleksander said, waving a hand. “I have an important task for you.”</p>
<p>The Pevskayas were one of Ravka’s old noble families, managing to dodge and avert all the trouble from various kings and cling on to their nobility all the while. What made their feat so exceptional was that the Pevskaya line was known for its incredibly powerful Heartrenders – rarely was an <em>otkazat’sya</em> child born to a Pevskaya, and naturally they only married other Heartrenders of high ability. This heritage had elevated the female branch of the family, and as a result they were the only noble family Aleksander had ever heard of with a title that passed through the eldest daughters. While this earned a lot of raised eyebrows from Ravka’s stuffy traditionalists, nobody was about to contest it too fiercely for the obvious reasons.</p>
<p>Aleksander had known Nadezhda and Alexei Pevskaya from when they were children, and unbeknown to them until only a few years ago he had known the other generations of Pevskayas well, too. He was beginning to get to know the latest generation, too – the Pevskayas had a ten-year-old daughter named Zinaida at the Grisha school, and she was naturally an incredibly promising Heartrender.</p>
<p>“You might not like it,” he warned them, and they gave resigned smiles.</p>
<p>“It’s going to be bureaucratic, then?” Nadezhda asked. “Wonderful.”</p>
<p>“Regrettably,” Aleksander said, giving a genuinely apologetic smile. “I will have to be away for a period of time. Ideally not more than a couple of weeks, but you know how the place falls apart without me. I would ordinarily like to have you come with me, given your abilities, but unfortunately you are the only people I can trust to rule in my place, given the experience you have with court life and running your own estate. Not to mention I might have made enemies with some of the Lords this morning, and I would quite like to leave people in charge who they won’t wish to try in a fight.”</p>
<p>The Duke and Duchess gave the smile typical of Heartrenders – amused, but with the undercurrent of knowing exactly what they were capable of.</p>
<p>“Naturally you have provided this service for me before, but for much shorter periods of time,” Aleksander continued. “I can’t say it will be a very fun job.”</p>
<p>“I’m sure we’ll manage,” Nadezhda said. “Those old lords are still bewildered by the sight of me. One of them is said to keep garlic in his shoe to fend me off. I had to tell him that was vampires, not Heartrenders.”</p>
<p>“Will you be travelling constantly, or shall we be able to reach you easily?” Alexei asked.</p>
<p>“Lord Rinsky has very kindly given me use of his estate in the north,” Aleksander said, “as well as all of his assets. Very kind of him.”</p>
<p>There was a moment where the implications landed, and then Nadezhda raised an eyebrow and Alexei snorted.</p>
<p>“Always knew the old bastard would get himself killed,” he said.</p>
<p>“I will be using that as a base of operations, and of course I will be in touch,” Aleksander said. “I trust things shouldn’t fall apart any more than they ordinarily would. Feel free to appoint whoever you feel will assist best; I trust your judgement. Report back to me this afternoon with your choices. I will be leaving before evening.”</p>
<p>They nodded, already discussing options even as they left the room. Aleksander remained where he was, half-tuned in to the hallway beyond the door, waiting for Mikhail and Peter to return with the others. He allowed himself to wonder, briefly, if there was a point to all this – if he wasn’t acting just because he felt he should do something, but he quickly put the thoughts away. Vasya was definitely reaching a destination; the spies were placed. It was confirmed that Alina was in the north, and the Rinsky estate was well-linked to roads and in an area which, according to Tolya and Tamar, had seen recent activity in the name of Sankta Alina. It was certainly better than being here.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>(Apologies for the delay in uploading this; stuff came up. Shall not happen again.)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was too much – a haze of pain so deep that Alina barely understood anything that was going on around her. Only the basics reached her: she was being moved, somebody was trying to pull her to her feet, but she couldn’t get her legs to hold her weight. For some reason she found herself growing frustrated, wanting to cry – why couldn’t she do something so <em>simple</em>? Then she wondered why she wanted to help these people anyway, and then somebody picked her up and the room tilted with the force of the pain at her back and her thoughts drifted again. Brief flashes came to her, mostly of movement, the occasional temperature change, the terrible moment where she could feel a breeze blowing on the open wounds at her back, and then she was laying on her front and something cold and damp was being applied to the wounds and she must have passed out.</p>
<p>When her senses returned to her she was still on her front, but she knew she was back in her cell. The dimensions of the room around her felt familiar, and she could feel the stone floor beneath the thin excuse for a mattress. She turned her head to the other side, looking out into the darkness, but nothing stirred. She supposed there was the usual thin band of light coming in under the door from one of the hall lamps, but she couldn’t move enough to see it. Out of nowhere she remembered the game she used to play as a girl, when she would wake up in the darkest part of the night and the blackness seemed solid enough to touch. She would open her eyes as wide as they would go, trying to make out anything at all, and when she was sure she couldn’t she would try and convince herself she had gone blind. She didn’t know <em>why</em> she did it, because it always ended up worrying her enough that she would get up and walk softly to one of the dormitory’s large windows, opening the heavy curtain a crack to reassure herself she could actually still see – she supposed she had liked the thrill of fear, the knowledge she had deep down that it was just a game. It was strange, to fall into the same habit now and find herself unafraid. Somehow it didn’t seem as big a deal anymore; it didn’t feel like it could be worse than the real situation she was in.</p>
<p>She was still in agony, but not enough that her body had forgotten all its other complaints. She was still beyond thirsty, and while she no longer felt constantly hungry the pains would still sometimes hit her, twisting her stomach and making her feel ill. She was sometimes sure that even if somebody put food down in front of her right at that moment, she wouldn’t be able to eat it. She had given up worrying about it; she supposed she was resigned.</p>
<p><em>Maybe I’ll just starve to death</em>, she thought vaguely, and there was a sense of satisfaction in the thought, in wondering how Svetlana would explain <em>that</em> to her wretched congregation. Alina hated them all. She hated Svetlana, she hated Matvey and his mindless obedience, she hated the congregation and how elated they looked when they saw her getting hurt. She hated them all, but for some reason she was crying again. Why couldn’t she hate differently? Why couldn’t she hate like Aleksander hated – cool and calm and none of this crying, hard enough that her shoulders had begun to shake. The movement caused the pain in her back to sharpen; she became aware that she was wearing a thin shirt and that the fabric was warm with cooling blood.</p>
<p><em>That’s going to scar</em>, she thought. <em>It’s going to be such a mess. Maybe Genya can do something with it.</em></p>
<p>Her sob turned into a wet laugh. <em>That</em> would be rich, asking Genya of all people to see to her scars. She tried to quieten herself, listening to the hallway even though she knew it would be useless to think she would hear anyone approaching, but she still drew some comfort from the fact that all was still and silent. Even so, she tried to calm herself. She was fed up of crying. She had been doing it almost constantly, or it seemed that way – she wished she could stop. She didn’t like the way everyone seemed to enjoy it when she cried. She didn’t want to give them <em>anything</em>, but she couldn’t seem to help it.</p>
<p>She didn’t want to think about what had happened, but her mind wouldn’t stop replaying it. It already seemed so long ago, but admittedly she didn’t know how long she had been unconscious for. She had a fair bit of experience with it now, and she thought it couldn’t be any more than a day, but really there was no way of telling. Already she couldn’t remember chunks of what had happened, but what she could remember was more than enough. The sharp, burning pain, and the sound the whip made as it came through the air – the crack that told her the pain was inevitable. She didn’t want to think about what Svetlana had said, or about how the congregation had just watched and prayed and looked so <em>elated</em>, like it really was doing her some good. She wanted to forget all of it forever, but she kept turning over the memories in her head because she was sure that somewhere among them she would find proof that she had heard Aleksander’s voice; that he had actually been there and she hadn’t just been imagining it.</p>
<p>How did she keep calling him? She still hadn’t worked it out, though she hadn’t had much time to practise. She tried now, closing her eyes and searching through her thoughts, but the pain was so distracting she could barely think of anything else. It felt almost like a burn, the pain seeming to grow past what she thought would be possible and only continuing to grow, but with a sudden surge of frustration she forced the pain back, stubbornly ignoring it. She didn’t know how much time she had to herself. If she could just get Aleksander here, maybe she could hold on to him. Maybe she wouldn’t have to be alone. That was the worst part – that she was alone, that she was stuck here by herself and she didn’t want to be, she wanted to be anywhere else, <em>anywhere</em>—</p>
<p>She felt something then, a slight tug somewhere in her head, in her actual thoughts. She didn’t hesitate or wait to confirm it; she threw herself after it, imagining that it was a real, physical rope, that she could just pull herself along it hand over hand. The room seemed to dissolve around her, the stone vanishing from under her, and even the pain was left behind. She got the sensation of wind rushing around her, and a blackness even deeper than the one she had taunted herself with as a child, and then there was suddenly light and the sensation of activity, the flickering of campfires and the night sky high above her. Like most of her surroundings it was out of focus, but Alina could see the blurred disk of the moon, and she could <em>feel</em> the open space, the ghost of fresh air. Her heart thudded madly in her chest and she closed her eyes, breathing steadily, reminding herself that it was real, that there was a world out there – and then someone took her arm and she jumped, opening her eyes with a gasp.</p>
<p>“It’s me,” Aleksander murmured, and she allowed him to lead her through the campsite – suddenly in full focus, as though she were actually there – and through the line of trees at its edge. They walked a short way until there was a gap in the trees large enough to let the moonlight through; Aleksander pulled her close, pushing her hair from her face and looking at her closely. “I assume it’s a stupid question to ask if you’re alright.”</p>
<p>Alina nodded. She couldn’t bring herself to speak. She simply watched him, taking in every detail – he looked mostly as she remembered, perhaps a little more tired, and his eyes were a little brighter, sharper. It occurred to him that he was clearly travelling, but all the questions she might have asked had temporarily abandoned her. Before she could stop herself she collapsed against him, slipping her hands under his kefta and clinging to his shirt. He put an arm around her, his other hand at her head, fingers threading through her hair, and they remained like that for several minutes until Alina finally caught a grip on herself again.</p>
<p>“You worked it out,” Aleksander eventually said, an unmistakeable hint of pride in his voice. “How to come to me properly. You look healthy.”</p>
<p>“I want to stay here,” Alina said quietly, her voice muffled where she still leaned against him. “Can I stay here? With you? I’m still there physically. Maybe they’ll just think I went mad.”</p>
<p>“For a little while,” Aleksander told her. “But not for good. Let them perhaps find you now, though. It might work to your advantage, if you’re completely unresponsive.”</p>
<p>“I can’t do it anymore,” Alina said, tightening her grip on him. “I can’t. I’m not strong enough. I’m not—I’m not like you, Sasha. I’m scared.”</p>
<p>“You can do it,” Aleksander said firmly. “You have to. It won’t be long now.”</p>
<p>“You’re travelling. Have you found me?"</p>
<p>“Not specifically, I’m afraid. But we’re getting closer. It won’t be long, Alina. You have a good opportunity here.”</p>
<p>She let out a shaky laugh. “I don’t think so.”</p>
<p>“It’s what you needed to make your story convincing,” Aleksander said. He gently pushed her back, so she could look at him. “Something like that – it’s extreme enough that nobody would be suspicious if you had a change of heart. You’re dealing with people who are deranged, but that makes them easy to appease. It might seem impossible that anyone could believe what they do, but they <em>do</em> believe it. Therefore they won’t be surprised if <em>you</em> believe it. To them, it makes all the sense in the world.”</p>
<p>“So I should… pretend I believe them now?” Alina asked, frowning. “That you’re evil and I was wrong, and all of that?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Aleksander said, with a small smile. “But go further than that. They think I corrupted you, don’t they? They think I put all these ideas into your head. Do you have a good imagination, Alina? I remember you telling me about some tall tales you used to tell as a child.”</p>
<p>Alina let out a weak laugh. “I might have had a habit of embellishing the truth. I don’t think I was very good at being convincing, though.”</p>
<p>“Alina,” Aleksander said, raising an eyebrow. “Who was my spy? Who lived for months at the Little Palace, attracting no suspicion at all, feeding back every scrap of information to me? Who managed to stay convincing right through an attack, and only revealed herself at the last moment? Who got away with it right up until the point you told everyone yourself? You were beyond suspicion. You’re a better liar than you think, when you have a cause good enough to lie for. This isn’t who raided the pantry at the orphanage. You respond well to high stakes.”</p>
<p>She smiled, wiping at her eyes. “I suppose.”</p>
<p>“You can do this,” Aleksander assured her. “It won’t be as difficult as you think. Subtly was the rule last time, but this time I think you could indulge in some dramatics. They want a revelation. They want you to open your eyes to this. You’re in the perfect position for such a thing. These people genuinely believe that pain and starvation is purifying; that it can enable you to access higher thought. Say I brainwashed you through the link we have – the collar. They’ll love it. Say it must have been some kind of mind control and imply the pain snapped you out of it.”</p>
<p>“What if they hurt me more?” Alina asked. “What if they think they have to keep doing it, or they think—”</p>
<p>“They might,” Aleksander said gently, “but it won’t be for long. They won’t want to keep you shut away once they think they’ve won. You’ll be able to see more, and the second you can get to the surface you stand a chance of escape. You’ll be able to show me where you are; you might even be able to attack them yourself.”</p>
<p>Alina nodded, but she knew the reluctance showed on her face. She hated them all, that much was certain, but could she <em>kill</em> them all? Could she kill any of them, or would she simply try to escape without causing them harm? She knew she probably would, even if there was no point. Aleksander wouldn’t spare them. With that in mind she was sure that if she killed them it would be a more merciful death. Was it selfish of her to not want blood on her hands, even with the situation as it was?</p>
<p>“Alina,” Aleksander said warningly, and she knew he had read all of her thoughts on her face.</p>
<p>“I’m not as strong as you,” she said quietly. “I can’t… I can’t live with that kind of thing as easily as you can.”</p>
<p>Aleksander sighed, but when he put a finger under her chin and tilted her head up, his touch was gentle. “You’re still so young.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know if that’s something I ever want to learn to do,” she said quietly.</p>
<p>“You have to.”</p>
<p>“Am I not supposed to be your balance?”</p>
<p>“You are,” he said softly. “But that doesn’t apply to situations like this. You need to learn to defend yourself, Alina. You need to be ruthless when it comes to your own safety. If anyone lifts a hand to you – if anyone so much as looks as though they’re thinking about it – you need to strike first.”</p>
<p>“Maybe it would be easier, if they were… I don’t know, Fjerdan assassins or something,” Alina sighed. “It’s so difficult, when they believe they’re doing me <em>good</em>. They’re clearly delusional – is that their fault?”</p>
<p>“I assume you’ve pointed out all of your arguments,” Aleksander said. “Something tells me they didn’t work.”</p>
<p>Alina’s shoulders slumped. “You’re right.”</p>
<p>“There will be more incidents,” Aleksander told her. “Perhaps not like this, but there will be others. In time you will be strong enough to avoid them; you will have learned enough to see them coming. When you can’t avoid them, you will make it through them easier than this. The first time is always the hardest, but everything gets easier with time.”</p>
<p>“Have you…?” Alina asked, before shaking her head. “That’s a stupid question.”</p>
<p>“Not like this,” Aleksander said, laughing. “I don’t think anyone has ever found themselves in a situation like this. But have I ever been taken captive? Have I even been hurt like that? Mistreated and tortured? Yes, I have. And not just once. The first time, I didn’t deal with it much better than how you did.”</p>
<p>“I bet you weren’t curled up crying and feeling sorry for yourself,” Alina said bitterly, wiping at her eyes again.</p>
<p>“I might have done,” Aleksander said, shrugging. “There’s a lot of time to yourself when you’re a captive. If you do want to have a breakdown, you can get away with it.”</p>
<p>“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”</p>
<p>“I was scared, Alina. I’m not immune to the feeling.” He paused, watching her for a long moment, and then he shook his head. “I’m scared now.”</p>
<p>“Why?” Alina whispered.</p>
<p>“Why do you think?” Aleksander asked.</p>
<p>Alina tried to give a reassuring smile, but her lip trembled again and she shook her head, pushing the heels of her hands into her eyes. “I wish I could stop <em>crying</em>.”</p>
<p>“Pinch the bridge of your nose,” Aleksander said, tapping the spot just between Alina’s eyes. “Gentle but firm. Hold it there for a few seconds. The tears will stop.”</p>
<p>“It can’t be that simple.”</p>
<p>“Try it.”</p>
<p>She did, finding to her surprise that it worked. The burning in her eyes faded and she was able to blink the tears away; her throat still felt tight, but without the burning constantly threatening in her eyes it was easier to concentrate on swallowing the lump down. Hesitantly she let go, finding that the tears remained gone. She looked at Aleksander, seeing that familiar triumphant smile on his face, and let out a disbelieving laugh.</p>
<p>“How did you discover that trick? One of your Heartrenders?”</p>
<p>Aleksander’s smile widened a little, and he shook his head. “My mother.”</p>
<p>“<em>Baghra</em>? She seems like she would just hit you with her cane if you cried.”</p>
<p>“Well, she did that too. That was a trick for if I wasn’t with her,” Aleksander said. “She always told me that nobody should ever see me cry.”</p>
<p>“But you were a boy. It’s alright when you’re a child.”</p>
<p>“Not for me,” Aleksander said, shaking his head. “You’ll be alright. I know it’s difficult to believe, but you will be.”</p>
<p>Alina wondered how he could speak with such quiet confidence, but she supposed with almost six hundred years of experience, he probably saw plenty of things that she couldn’t. She wondered what she would be like at his age – the number was still incomprehensible to her now. She was barely twenty-one; Aleksander must be five hundred and ninety now, or at least close enough. The number was dizzying, but she found it was less intimidating when she saw Aleksander’s conviction; the calm way that he assured her. He had seen enough to know when there was time to worry. She had trusted him so far and he hadn’t let her down – she should trust him now.</p>
<p>“I’ll do it,” she said quietly. “I’ll play along. I’ll be perfect. I’ll make them think everything is going just the way they wanted it. I <em>will</em>.”</p>
<p>“I have no doubt,” Aleksander said. “But Alina?”</p>
<p>She looked at him, startled by the sudden seriousness in his voice, the edge to her name. She was aware that his hold on her had tightened, both hands gripping her upper arms, and she had to swallow before she spoke.</p>
<p>“Yes?”</p>
<p>“<em>Never</em> beg them again,” he said, his voice low. “Never. You <em>never</em> beg.”</p>
<p>“I—” Alina began, swallowing again. “I didn’t mean—I mean—”</p>
<p>“<em>Never</em>,” Aleksander stressed. “You never give them <em>anything</em>. You never beg for them to stop, you never plead. I am not the sort of person who pretends that everything is within control – crying, screaming, those things you can’t always help. But you <em>never</em> beg. You do not demean yourself like that. You kneel to nobody, and you beg no-one. Do you understand?”</p>
<p>“I—I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>“You’re young,” Aleksander said again. “You have a lot to learn. Let this be a lesson. <em>You do not beg.</em>”</p>
<p>She nodded. “I won’t. I—I didn’t mean to. I don’t even remember what I was saying.”</p>
<p>“It is best to say nothing,” Aleksander said, his grip loosening. “Nobody is fully in control of what they say in a situation like that – it’s best to not let any words come at all.” He smiled, his features suddenly gentle again. “I have heard that if words are unavoidable, cursing is a good way to go.”</p>
<p>Alina laughed. “I don’t know what they would think if their precious Saint started cursing them all out.”</p>
<p>“I could teach you some things that would make even the roughest Ketterdam cutthroat blush, if you like.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I’m sure they’d <em>really</em> love that. Heretical swearing, their favourite.”</p>
<p>It seemed so <em>normal</em>, to be here with him, everything as real as though she were actually physically there. As nice as it was she couldn’t help but feel the ache in her chest, the knowledge that soon enough she would have to go back to that place, and while the fact that Aleksander was on the move comforted her she wished she had a solid timeframe. She would be able to endure it so much easier if she only knew where the end was, she was sure of it.</p>
<p>Aleksander yawned. “Sit for a while. I could do with a break.”</p>
<p>Alina could feel the grass tickling her as she sat down, and now the night sky was in full focus, the stars blinking lazily. She had forgotten how much she loved the night sky; the comfort she had found in it. She had loved the nights, even when she had been a small child – Mal had been scared of the dark when they were very young, and so Alina had been on her own during her night time wanderings. She would find her way into the furthest wing of the house, where the furniture was all draped with white covers and the lamps hadn’t been lit for years, and then she would climb up into a window seat and watch the sky. She had seen all kinds of curious things sitting there – shooting stars, strange lights she couldn’t explain, all sorts of nocturnal animals streaking across the estate’s vast lawns. Once she had sneezed as a fox had been crossing, and he had frozen, looking right at her. They had watched one another for a moment before the fox had quickly trotted away, and Alina had felt a strange kind of connection with him. It had felt as though they were the only two living things in the world.</p>
<p>“I’ve missed it,” she said, finding Aleksander’s hand and entwining their fingers. “How open it is. How the sky looks. The breeze. I hate being underground.”</p>
<p>“It’s no place for a Sun Summoner,” Aleksander agreed.</p>
<p>“You know, I barely notice how sick I am,” Alina said, laughing. “I feel bad. I feel like – well, it’s my power, isn’t it? I should feel its absence more. But with everything else going on I barely notice. I’m always tired and in pain anyway. I’m already losing weight because they’re not feeding me. Well, unless you count the occasional slice of bread.”</p>
<p>“It might not be affecting you as badly now,” Aleksander said, nodding to the collar. “You have a connection with me. You’re not wholly cut off from your power, even if you can’t use it.”</p>
<p>“I would go mad otherwise, I think,” Alina said, sighing. “If it wasn’t for this. If I was truly on my own.” She looked at him, feeling the panic clawing at her again. “I don’t want to go back.”</p>
<p>“I know,” Aleksander murmured. “You don’t have to yet.”</p>
<p>“I don’t want to go back ever. I want to just stay here like this with you.”</p>
<p>“Remember everything I said,” Aleksander told her. “You can do this. It won’t be for forever. You can play this game, and I won’t be long.”</p>
<p>“Where are you going? Where are you heading?”</p>
<p>“North,” Aleksander said. “All of my information is beginning to point to a loose area. From there it’s just a case of narrowing it down. As soon as you get yourself to the surface, we’ll know.”</p>
<p>“It might not be anything specific.”</p>
<p>“There’s always something specific, if you get somebody who knows the area well enough.”</p>
<p>Alina nodded, but she found herself growing less sure as the minutes passed. It felt a waste, to spend this time with Aleksander simply dreading going back, but she couldn’t take her mind of it – she was aware that somewhere in the back of her mind she could feel something strange, some kind of pull that was similar yet totally different to the one that had drawn her here.</p>
<p>“I think someone’s with me,” she said, her stomach twisting. “With my body, I mean. It feels like somebody’s… I don’t know. It just feels like there’s someone there.”</p>
<p>“You’ll have to go back soon,” Aleksander said gently. “I’ll come to you as soon as I can.”</p>
<p>“Tonight?” Alina asked, no longer bothering to hide the desperation in her voice. “Before you go to sleep?”</p>
<p>“If I can,” Aleksander assured her. “Will you be awake?”</p>
<p>“I think so. If someone’s there… I don’t know what they want with me. They might want to hurt me again.”</p>
<p>“To them, it’s going to look like you’re practically comatose,” Aleksander said. “When you come out of it, start pretending. They’ll be elated, I’m sure. I doubt they’ll hurt you again while they’re still so excited about their progress.”</p>
<p>“You seem to know a lot about them.”</p>
<p>“I’ve seen their type before,” Aleksander said, with a thin smile. “They’re all the same, though they’re useful if you know how to play them. I have a few members of my own cult spying for me, do you know? I knew I kept them around for a reason.”</p>
<p>“So if I see anybody new show up, I should just pretend I don’t notice?” Alina asked, with a weak smile. “Noted.”</p>
<p>“I’m sure they’ll be only the most pious,” Aleksander said, laughing.</p>
<p>Footsteps reached them, crunching closer through the trees, and both of them looked in their direction. Alina could make nothing out, but Aleksander sighed.</p>
<p>“It’s for me,” he said, stifling another yawn. “Duty calls. I suppose I’ve been away for long enough.”</p>
<p>“I don’t suppose I can stay,” Alina said glumly.</p>
<p>“Not now,” Aleksander said gently. “Go back. Start playing them. Remember what you’re capable of.”</p>
<p>Alina nodded, but she could feel how tense she was, the dread solidifying to something tight and heavy in her chest.</p>
<p>“Alina,” Aleksander said, and she looked at him. “I trust you. I know you can do this.”</p>
<p>“I will,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I will.”</p>
<p>“Go on,” Aleksander said, standing. “I’ll come to you later.”</p>
<p>The world slipped out of focus as he let go of her, and Alina took a steadying breath and closed her eyes, allowing herself to slip back down the ever-strengthening pull that led her back to her body. She was aware of the room around her when she arrived, a brief flash of lantern light and figures, and then the room tilted and she was looking out of her own eyes again, laying on the ground and staring at two pairs of feet.</p>
<p>“I’m not sure, Priestess,” Matvey was saying, his voice so low that Alina had to strain to hear it. “I think it would be best to leave her. Perhaps allow her some more food and water. I understand the necessity of fasting, but she lost a lot of blood. We don’t want to kill her.”</p>
<p>“Do you know how difficult it is to kill Grisha of her power?” Svetlana snapped.</p>
<p>“That’s when they’re healthy, Priestess,” Matvey said. “When they’re using their power. Sankta Alina hasn’t been permitted to use her power for two weeks. Repressing that much will be taking a toll on her physically. It will leave her prone to illness and infection.”</p>
<p><em>At least somebody around here has some sense</em>, Alina thought, but Matvey’s words seemed to have reminded her body that there was plenty that hurt, because at that moment the various pains and aches came back to her: all of her joints, every one of her limbs aching like she had been marching uphill with a heavy pack all day. Her back burned and stung, but strangely not quite as much as before. Instead Alina was aware of how <em>wrong</em> the flesh felt, how the cuts hung open, the weight strangely distributed thanks to her torn skin. She felt a wave of nausea rush up and tried to focus on the aching instead.</p>
<p>“She isn’t in any kind of distress,” Svetlana said firmly. “It’s some kind of trance. I’m sure it is. Her breathing is even. Perhaps it worked.”</p>
<p>Alina could hear the excitement in Svetlana’s voice, and it occurred to her then, with full clarity, how much Svetlana <em>wanted</em> to believe it. Suddenly it didn’t seem so difficult to believe everything Aleksander had told her – it was easy to believe that she might be able to fool Svetlana, that no matter how convenient it seemed, Svetlana would believe her. Alina found herself wondering how convenient it would actually look. Svetlana, after all, knew absolutely nothing about the link she shared with Aleksander. How could Svetlana know that Alina had been conspiring with him; that this was all part of a plan? The thought of it gave Alina a strange little thrill.</p>
<p><em>I’ll be your perfect little Saint,</em> she thought, as excitement began to burn through the pain, the fear of being back. It was a strange kind of excitement, not like any she had felt before – there was something malicious in it, she thought. Something that looked forward to the deceit in a way that she hadn’t felt the first time she had conspired with Aleksander. Then she had been nervous, wondering if she was making the right decision. Now her loyalties were clear. She had made the right choice – and these people were torturing her for it.</p>
<p>
  <em>I’ll be your perfect little Saint and you’ll never suspect what I really am until it’s too late.</em>
</p>
<p>Alina let herself act without thinking about it; let that sudden rush of malice overwhelm the pain. She pushed herself up with weak arms, sitting heavily on the hard floor and ignoring the fresh blood running down her back, stinging the cuts; the way that the skin hung loosely down, making her feel sick again. She ignored it all, instead lifting her hands and gripping the collar at her throat, not bothering to avoid the scarring burns there. She scraped her nails against the bone, dug them into her skin as though she were trying to claw the collar off in any way possible, and then she looked up and met Svetlana’s eye.</p>
<p>“Take it off,” Alina said breathlessly. “Take it—where am I? Where is he? Oh, <em>please</em> take it off!”</p>
<p>Svetlana kept her face expertly thoughtful, but Alina saw the spark in her eyes and she knew she had her.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Rinsky estate was at the very least a nice change of scenery from the Palaces, even if its remoteness caused the unpleasant side-effect of there being less to do. They most frustrating thing about a search – as Aleksander had learned over the years, and especially over the last three or four – was that there was very little to actually <em>do</em>. Looking everywhere might appear more productive, but really it wasted time and effort; the best tactic was to make educated guesses and focus efforts there, but of course that then resulted in a lot of sitting around, waiting, and generally feeling as though he was doing nothing.</p>
<p>They had settled in well enough, once Aleksander had made it very clear to the stunned house staff that they were now under new management. None of them asked too many questions, which was clever of them, and only the oldest of the servants – the footman and the head housekeeper, mostly – seemed to be in any way upset by the old master’s untimely demise; the rest of the staff simply got on with it, and Aleksander had heard that their opinions ranged from <em>don’t care, so long as I still get paid</em> and <em>don’t like it, but are </em>you<em> going to say no to a bunch of Grisha</em>? Either option worked for Aleksander, so he was content to let them get on with it. Aleksander sure as hell didn’t know how to go about running a house this large. Like the Palaces, it seemed to run itself, and rarely did Aleksander see any of the servants unless they were specifically called for. Mealtimes stayed regular, rooms mysteriously cleaned and righted themselves seemingly within moments of being used, the horses were all kept fed and happy. Aleksander could see how <em>this</em> life might have been appealing – all the benefits of being royal, without actually having to deal with any royalty.</p>
<p>The only time that Aleksander looked forward to without any question was the night, where there would be nothing to do and he would be left alone. It was easier to check in with Alina now, without the threat of someone needing him; she looked better in some ways, and worse in others. The extent of her injuries was still a concern, as was the fact that she didn’t seem to be receiving any care for them – all part of the <em>cleansing</em>, according to Alina. She was <em>supposed</em> to suffer, at least a little, even when she was behaving herself. For that reason she was still dangerously skinny and often dehydrated, and judging from the stiffness in her movements she was really feeling the bite of suppressing her power, but the most important thing was that she had everyone fooled.</p>
<p>“They’re still hesitant,” she told him a few nights prior, as they both sat on the floor, the cell so cold that Aleksander could feel it sinking into him even though he wasn’t physically there. “Of course they are – they can’t just start telling me everything and showing me where we are on a map. But I don’t think they suspect me. I don’t think this is due to suspicion.”</p>
<p>“Oh?”</p>
<p>“They don’t want to rush me,” Alina said. She was holding his hand in both of hers, playing absently with his fingers as she spoke. It was a relief to see her somewhat calmer, even if Aleksander could hear the tightness grow in her voice every time it became apparent he would have to leave soon. “Apparently it’s a <em>delicate process</em>. They don’t want me to regress, or something. I don’t know; I’m just worried that they might decide I have, and then it’ll be back to square one.”</p>
<p>He could hear all the unspoken words in her voice – back to the beatings, the whippings, the burning. Even now she was still contending with a lot of discomfort – starvation and exhaustion, mostly, because she was still required to stand through sermons for hours and hours, though she had proudly reported that she had since mastered a serene look that Svetlana apparently loved.</p>
<p>“I don’t think she’s worked out I’m kind of dozing on my feet,” she had said, laughing.</p>
<p>“They most valuable lesson any solider learns is how to fall asleep anywhere,” Aleksander had agreed, amused.</p>
<p>She was holding it together well enough, but Aleksander had seen such things before. It was easy to hold it together when one had a purpose, a higher goal to work towards. It would be the aftermath that would dangerous to her now, when there were no longer any distractions and the full horror of it hit her. It was almost like a debt, Aleksander thought. It was possible to keep it together for a bigger plan, but the stress and the fear didn’t just vanish in the face of purpose. It was still there. It would just have to be paid later.</p>
<p>Regardless of the fact Alina seemed to have everyone fooled, Aleksander still needed to act quicker to find her. There was no telling what kind of damage could be done otherwise, and he still didn’t entirely trust Svetlana and her crowd not to burn Alina at the stake as some kind of final act to set her free from his grasp. One could never be too careful with cults.</p>
<p>A week had passed by now, and as was his habit Aleksander was up shortly after dawn, too restless to sleep any more. He tended to fall asleep with Alina and wake up in his own body, briefly disorientated and then too agitated to sleep. It had become his habit to sit in the window seat and watch as the sky lightened; on the edge of the horizon he could see the Fold, a streak of black that ran the horizon’s entire length. It never failed to surprise him how large the Fold was, even after all these centuries of being well-acquainted with its borders; sometimes he could hardly blame these people for thinking so badly of him, for assuming that he must have some kind of hell-sent power. At the same time, he would be lying if he said the sight of it didn’t encourage him somewhat. If he was capable of doing something like <em>that</em>, what else could he do? When he considered the Fold had been unintentional – a side effect of his real aim – he had to then wonder what he could do <em>deliberately</em>, with a few more centuries of experience to his name.</p>
<p>All the more reason, then, to be annoyed that a bunch of peasants seemed to be giving him the run-around. Aleksander rolled his eyes and went to turn from the window, and then something unusual caught his eye.</p>
<p>The driveway passed underneath Aleksander’s window and swept away to the left in a gentle curve across the grounds, all the better room for the queues of horses and carriages that would descend upon the house whenever the late Lord had been giving one of the extravagant parties Ravka’s esteemed nobility were so known for. Now it was deserted, pockets of thick mist clinging to the slight dips in the ground, but from where Aleksander was standing he was able to make out the gates at the bottom of the drive, the small guardhouse attached to it. Usually at this time of the morning the guards would be inside it, keeping warm –the coldest part of the morning was always just as the sun began to rise – but now they were outside, two standing warily by and keeping a close eye on things, and two others speaking to someone on the other side of the fence. Aleksander couldn’t make out any details on the person’s face, but from how they were dressed they appeared to either be travelling or perhaps a tenant farmer. Whatever they were, they seemed excitable, gesturing wildly and speaking with a lot of head-nodding and shaking.</p>
<p>It seemed likely that Aleksander would have to deal with it sooner or later; in the event that it <em>was</em> nothing (when was it ever nothing?) he decided to potentially save himself a walk down there to find such a thing out first hand. He watched with interest as the shadows close to the guardhouse deepened and appeared to pull itself away from the ground; nobody noticed until it had arranged itself into a shape and scuttled forward, peering at the gathering with interest. From where he was standing Aleksander was suddenly aware of the cool morning air, the distant feel of damp and dew; he heard the murmur of voices break off as everyone stared at the <em>nichevo’ya</em> with nervousness or terror, depending on the guard in question.</p>
<p>The visitor was another story. Looking through the eyes of the <em>nichevo’ya</em>, Aleksander was ninety-nine per cent sure that he recognised her; when instead of reacting with any fear she instead dropped to her knees before the creature and bowed her head low to the floor, Aleksander had all the confirmation he needed. The <em>nichevo’ya</em> turned to one of the guards and nodded, before pointing up to the house; the guard, hands trembling, managed to unlock the gate. Aleksander left them to their walk up the drive and pulled on his kefta, going down to meet them.</p>
<p>There were many receiving rooms and sitting rooms and sun rooms and Saints knew how many other variations of room, but Aleksander’s favourite place to be found was the library. He had never expected it of somebody like Rinsky, who had seemed frightfully uneducated in many matters, and he supposed that the collection was the work of the man’s ancestors. At the very least Rinsky had respected his heritage enough to keep the library in good shape, and the result was, in Aleksander’s opinion, the best room in the house. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves covered most of the walls, with the exception of the floor-to-ceiling windows interspacing some of them. Light poured in almost all day in the summer, the sun rising just to the left of the first window and passing through every single one of them before setting somewhere just to the right of the last; at sunset the windows would glow rose and gold, and Aleksander always found himself thinking about how much Alina would love the place. He would bring her here first, he thought. There was no point rushing her back to the Palace, back to all the stares and the questions and the extra responsibilities that would keep him from her for longer. They would come here first, and she could have a chance to catch her breath, regain some strength.</p>
<p>In the centre of the library, catching the best light, was a long oak table surrounded by comfortable yet mismatched chairs – that had struck Aleksander as unexpected, as usually such people tended to favour order and design. He rather liked the look, though, and as no two chairs were the same it had was an exercise in discovery as to which ones were best for serious work and which ones were best for relaxing – sometimes a little too effectively, as twice now Aleksander had come in to find someone asleep in a particularly comfortable chair, a book open in their lap. A balcony circled the upper level of the room on three sides, with yet more bookshelves and nooks for working or relaxing, and Aleksander had soon discovered a section absolutely filled with maps. Some of them had to be centuries old; several of these were stretched over the table now, along with several of the more modern ones for comparison, and for that reason most of the heavy curtains were drawn to keep the midday sun from the delicate parchment. The servants had opened the curtains at the far end to let in some light; they had quickly grown accustomed to Aleksander’s habits and always seemed to accurately predict where he would be heading first thing in the morning, which explained the steaming samovar and the assortment of breakfast food that was also on the table.</p>
<p>His guards also knew where he was to be found at such a time; within a minute of his arriving there was a knock on the door and the visitor was shown in, looking around herself with undisguised awe. Aleksander nodded to the guards and they left quietly, pulling the door closed behind them, and the young woman’s eyes finally fell on Aleksander. She let out a soft gasp and dropped to her knees again, bowing her head, and Aleksander gave a soft laugh.</p>
<p>“I’ve already told you that you don’t need to do that every time you see me, Mila,” he said. “Come over and have something to eat. There’s always so much extra food in this place.”</p>
<p>She nodded wordlessly, getting to her feet and making her way to the table while managing to give Aleksander wide-eyed glances the entire time. In that respect she hadn’t changed since Yuri had introduced them a couple of weeks ago at the monastery – she had barely said two words then, and Aleksander hoped that she would be a little more talkative if she had some news. It seemed he needn’t be concerned, however – there was nothing like good food to loosen a Ravkan’s tongue.</p>
<p>“There must be eighteen different types of marmalade here!” she said, and Aleksander laughed again.</p>
<p>“Close enough. Some of them are jams. Apparently they make their own from their various orchards and greenhouses. It’s very good. They gifted a good amount of it to the Grand Palace.”</p>
<p>“When word reached me where I might find you, I didn’t quite expect <em>this</em>.”</p>
<p>“It’s a new acquisition,” Aleksander said. “I suppose I was remembered generously in a will.”</p>
<p>Mila was perhaps twenty-five years old, and right now she was overwhelmingly brown: brown hair, brown eyes, tanned skin from travelling, a brown travelling cloak. She had been a lot paler when Aleksander had last seen her, spending all her time in the monastery as she did, and while she had been a devotee of his for several years she was still relatively new to Yuri’s crowd. She had been there on the day that Aleksander had first manipulated the Fold – indeed, it had destroyed her neighbourhood and killed what little remained of her family at the time. Nobody was quite sure how she had managed to get from that point to where she was now, but Aleksander had learned to never question religious callings. Sometimes there was simply no explanation.</p>
<p>Needless to say, her new devotion hadn’t gone down well with any other survivors, and so she had crossed the Fold and begun travelling and preaching. At some point she had run into Yuri, and now she was here, eating her weight in toast and marmalade while Aleksander loaded his tea with about as much sugar as he could put in it while ensuring it remained a liquid.</p>
<p>“It’s just as well you’re here, <em>moi soverenyi</em>,” Mila eventually said. “I would have had a long walk otherwise, and you would have lost them.”</p>
<p>“Lost who?” Aleksander asked, raising an eyebrow.</p>
<p>“The people I was travelling with,” Mila said, before her cheeks coloured slightly. “They grew suspicious of me, <em>moi soverenyi</em>. I had to leave, but I know their routine well. They would have been asleep for hours after I left, and I’m sure they’re probably glad I’m gone. Besides, they think I don’t know where they went.”</p>
<p>Aleksander took a slow sip of his tea, arranging the facts.</p>
<p>“Why did they grow suspicious?” he eventually asked.</p>
<p>“I’m not sure,” Mila admitted, frowning. “I did well enough to be able to travel this far with them, but perhaps there are things I couldn’t have known. It might have something to do with the Fold. They didn’t like heading this way – the ground grows higher and you can always see the Fold to the west. It made them uncomfortable, but it never bothered me. I thought I hid it well enough, but I suppose not.”</p>
<p>“There are many things you probably don’t know about how they operate,” Aleksander said. “Really it’s remarkable you made it this far on such short notice.”</p>
<p>Mila nodded, relaxing a little now she was sure she hadn’t irrevocably messed things up.</p>
<p>“They didn’t want to bring me with them anymore, but I played dumb to all the efforts to get rid of me and managed to hold on just long enough to find something out I think might help,” she said excitedly. “I overheard it, so they <em>really</em> didn’t want me to know. They were planning to head underground.”</p>
<p>Aleksander stilled, looking closely at her. He saw a flicker of unease pass over her face as the intensity of his attention registered, but once she realised she wasn’t in any trouble she continued, her voice a little more unsteady than before.</p>
<p>“Perhaps four miles from here, there’s a cave system,” she said. “It has a whole load of names, but locally it’s been called Sankt Piotr’s Seat for a few centuries. The caves are located behind the waterfalls that are there; if you stick close to the rock you can go behind them and there’s a bunch of large caves. Apparently in one of them you can get through the back and into one of the tunnels that’s all over Ravka. I think it’s an old one, because the people I was with weren’t sure if the instructions were right. They were worried that it would be caved in, or that the information might be wrong because it was so old.”</p>
<p>Aleksander leaned back in his seat, thinking. He had heard of the caves, of course, but he had never heard of any tunnel system linking them to anything – but of course that meant nothing in Ravka. The tunnel systems made <em>him</em> look young, some of them dating back two thousand years. It was impossible to know where all of them were located, and time and decay had surely erased many sections from memory. He had long suspected that Alina might be in one of these unknown areas, and this seemed to prove it. If Alina could only give him some clue as to where their part of the system opened out, Aleksander would have the location. Almost all of these tunnels came out at some place with religious significance, be it a chapel or a shrine or some other kind of holy land – a consecrated graveyard, for example. Others would appear in the cellars of houses, some of them noble and some of them certainly not. For that reason some tunnels seemed to open out on nothing of importance – the middle of an empty field, for example – because the house was long gone. The options were endless, but at the same time the age of the tunnels could narrow it down. He would get somebody to look up where they had last been mentioned – the library had a whole section on local history, and Mila had mentioned that she had come from only four miles away – and then a map from that time period would surely note any holy buildings or old houses in the area. If it turned out the tunnels were linked to the Rinsky estate, Aleksander thought he might scream.</p>
<p>“You say they might still be there?” Aleksander asked.</p>
<p>“They would have broken camp by now,” Mila explained. “Always with the sunrise – after prayer. But they won’t have gone far. The walk to the caves seems like something you’d want to take slowly.”</p>
<p>“What kind of people are they?” Aleksander asked, and Mila tilted her head slightly in question. “Peasants, ex-soldiers, what sort of thing?”</p>
<p>“I think one of them is a First Army defector,” Mila said. “He didn’t talk much about what he did before, and that’s always a sign that someone is a defector. He was also wearing boots that didn’t fit, making me think he’d ditched his army uniform and had stolen whatever he could.”</p>
<p>Aleksander nodded, once again appreciating Mila’s eye for detail.</p>
<p>“The other two are women a little older than me. From what I can tell they used to live in Novokribirsk, though thankfully they’re not anyone <em>I</em> knew. They’re pretty vocal about how much they hate you, which was difficult to listen to. They’re so <em>wrong</em> about everything, you wouldn’t <em>believe</em> some of the stuff they came out with—” She caught herself, taking a deep breath, and forced herself back to the point. “Mostly they’re terrified of you, though. I mean, really terrified. They won’t even say your name. Well, any of your titles, I suppose. They won’t even call you the Black Heretic or anything. You’re just <em>him</em> or <em>that man</em>.”</p>
<p>“Interesting,” Aleksander said. “That certainly makes this easier.”</p>
<p>Mila had the good sense not to ask, and judging from the way she studiously applied herself to spreading jam on a piece of toast, she had correctly assumed that she wouldn’t want to know. Her last comments had been useful in settling a dilemma for Aleksander – to have someone tail these people, or to intercept them and try and get answers from them straight away? Usually he would be in favour of tailing them, but enough time had passed already and there were other avenues to pursue in regards to locations: the maps, the tunnels themselves, anything Alina could feed him. There was a not insignificant chance, however, that these people would be terrified enough that they would just tell him where they were headed, and therefore save him a lot of time. Even if they didn’t know, for example, the exact name of the church that Svetlana was hiding herself under, they might panic and say enough that Aleksander would have something even more specific to go on. Vasya had led them this far, but it hadn’t been without a long wait. Aleksander was beginning to grow tired of waiting.</p>
<p>“Help yourself to whatever else you would like,” Aleksander told her, standing. “I will have one of the maids prepare a room for you; you should stay here to rest, and in case I have any more questions of you.”</p>
<p>Mila nodded, once again looking around the room in awe. “This belongs to one family?”</p>
<p>“One man, actually,” Aleksander said. “Very silly of him to die with no heirs, but I can’t complain.”</p>
<p>“Neither can I,” Mila said, and Aleksander laughed as he headed for the door.</p>
<p>It didn’t take long to organise everyone – he didn’t need that many people in the first place. Just himself, along with Mikhail and Peter; he was sure that would be more than enough, considering they would have the element of surprise on their hands. The three of them against three <em>otkazat’sya</em> – two of which were confirmed to be terrified of Aleksander – really wasn’t a complicated situation at all, and Aleksander had almost been tempted to go by himself before he reminded himself of his strictest rule – do not underestimate anyone. After all, weren’t Oretsev and the Lantsov bastard both <em>otkazat’sya</em>? They were enough of a headache for him.</p>
<p>Four miles was nothing on horseback, and they dismounted a short distance from the waterfalls. The rush of water masked any noise they might make as they tethered the horses and approached the waterfalls; Mikhail and Peter sensed nobody nearby, and Aleksander couldn’t pick anyone up in the darkness of the caves. It was more complicated than he would have liked to reach them, involving edging along a narrow rock ledge that was soaked with spray, but soon they were standing behind the waterfalls in the strange light of the caves, constantly shimmering and moving as the light filtered through the water crashing past the cave mouth.</p>
<p>“Saints, that’s loud,” Peter muttered, rubbing at his ears. “I thought it was supposed to be peaceful behind waterfalls?”</p>
<p>“Where did you get that idea from?” Mikhail asked.</p>
<p>“Isn’t that where people go to meditate or whatever?”</p>
<p>“I honestly could not tell you. Maybe you should try it.”</p>
<p>“At any rate it should hide any sound we make,” Aleksander said. “Though remember that works both ways. Do you sense anyone?”</p>
<p>The Heartrenders paused thoughtfully, and then shook their heads. Aleksander nodded and then concentrated on the shadows, feeling where they gathered in the caves, where they lightened and deepened. It saved them having to meticulously search every single one for the opening at the back – he could feel it in the cave next to theirs, a narrow slit in the rock where the shadows deepened and then became not shadows at all, but an utter absence of light. They slipped around the rock separating the two caves, getting wetter than they would have liked in the process – keftas were slightly more waterproof, but all three of them were dressed casually, ensuring they didn’t stand out to anyone who might have seen them on the road.</p>
<p>“No light yet,” Aleksander instructed them, as they looked into the inky darkness of the passageway. “Tune into me and follow where I tread.”</p>
<p>It was probably more stressful for Mikhail and Peter in the complete darkness of the passageway, but for Aleksander it was bearable. A little more concentration required than if he had shadows to work with, but altogether manageable. He could still sense where the darkness touched against the cave’s walls and floors; with a little more concentration he could feel where the ground shifted up or down, or where there were obstacles like fallen rocks. The puddles were more difficult to sense, but the place was so damp that wet feet were probably going to be inevitable anyway. He supposed in that respect his descriptor was inaccurate: it wasn’t <em>shadows</em> that he could summon, but rather darkness. He wasn’t totally useless in a complete absence of light, and he could still draw from it, still create the <em>nichevo’ya</em> from the darkness around it. That had been what made the Fold such a mystery – it was a total absence of light, but Aleksander was helpless in it. Or mostly, anyway. He could still feel it the same way as he felt the darkness here, almost velvety as it passed over his skin.</p>
<p>They sensed the others well before they saw the flicker of their torches, all of them slowing down to ensure their approach was completely silent. It was possible to match their footsteps as they got closer, ensuring that any sound the others might hear could be written off as an echo; remaining outside the circle of light from the last lantern, they were completely invisible. It was as Mila had reported – a scruffy looking young man who definitely had the air of a defector about him, and two women in their late twenties, or perhaps early thirties. All of them spoke in hushed whispers, mostly arguing about the direction.</p>
<p>“I just don’t think it could possibly be <em>right</em>,” the woman in the centre of the group whispered. She had a strong west Ravkan accent, and Aleksander wondered if Mila had ever had a similar one; if she deliberately spoke without it now. “It’s so dark down here, and you can feel nobody has been here for probably hundreds of years.”</p>
<p>“It’s not exactly going to be like a busy marketplace, is it?” the other woman asked. “Use your head, Tanya. It’s not like there are many people coming this way. Besides, it’s the only way <em>to</em> go. You can’t get lost if you only have one direction to go in!”</p>
<p>“How long do we have to be down here?” Tanya asked. “It gives me the creeps.”</p>
<p>“Everything gives you the creeps,” the man muttered.</p>
<p>Aleksander had made up his mind. He reached behind him and tapped Peter’s wrist twice; Peter passed the message to Mikhail, and in the next moment Tanya found herself standing, bewildered, as both of her companions suddenly swayed on their feet and hit the ground in a dead faint. Both of the torches hit the damp floor and rolled, hissing, until they went out; Tanya pressed herself against the wall, clutching her own torch, staring at first one still form and then the other.</p>
<p>“Zhenya? Viktor?” she whispered. “Oh, Saints, there’s not like, poison gas or something, is there?”</p>
<p>She nudged Viktor with her foot, only noticing the shadows snaking around her torch when the light began to dim. She looked at it, her confusion turning to alarm when she saw the strange way the darkness was acting. It twisted around the flame in ribbons and slowly made its way down the length of the torch towards her hand; when it was only a few inches away Tanya recovered herself and shrieked, throwing the torch away from her.</p>
<p>Mikhail caught it before it hit the ground, having slipped around to her other side while she had been distracted.</p>
<p>“Thanks,” he said, smiling, and she stared at him, her eyes wide.</p>
<p>“Who are you?” she asked, pressing herself back against the wall. “We’re supposed to be here, you know. We’re just passing through, we—are they alright?”</p>
<p>“They’re alive,” Mikhail said noncommittally. “For now.”</p>
<p>“What do you <em>mean</em>, for now? Are they poisoned?”</p>
<p>Mikhail shrugged.</p>
<p>“How can you be so calm?” Tanya yelled, her voice echoing strangely down the tunnel. “Who <em>are</em> you?”</p>
<p>“No need to shout,” Peter said, from her other side, and she looked at him and shrieked again. He laughed. “You’re easy to scare.”</p>
<p>“Can you blame me?” she snapped, but from where Aleksander was standing he could see she was shaking. No doubt the two Heartrenders had a much better idea of her stress levels. “I’m in a dark tunnel, my friends are hurt, and two complete strangers have been running around down here <em>without any light</em>. Oh, Saints, what <em>are</em> you people? How can you be down here without any <em>light</em>?”</p>
<p>“Don’t need it,” Peter grinned.</p>
<p>“Not when you have certain friends,” Mikhail added.</p>
<p>Tanya looked at him for a long moment, and then she seemed to finally remember what had caused her to throw the torch away in horror. Her eyes managed to widen a fraction further, and Mikhail laughed.</p>
<p>“No,” she said, shaking her head rapidly, as though if she shook it hard enough she might be able to somehow make it untrue. “You’re lying.”</p>
<p>“Why else do you think we’re down here?” Peter asked. “We’re looking for you.”</p>
<p>“For <em>me</em>? Why for <em>me</em>?”</p>
<p>“You have information we would like,” Mikhail said.</p>
<p>“I don’t know what you mean,” Tanya said, but the way her voice squeaked told the opposite story.</p>
<p>“Just down here for fun, then, are you?” Peter asked conversationally. “A bit of exploring with friends?”</p>
<p>“Where’s the other girl?” Mikhail asked, smirking. “Mila. Lovely lady. You don’t seem concerned that you’ve missed her.”</p>
<p>Finally some of the fear evaporated from Tanya’s face. She looked murderously angry for a moment, her fists clenching by her sides.</p>
<p>“That traitor,” she spat. “I <em>knew</em> it. I <em>knew</em> she wasn’t one of us, I <em>knew </em>it!”</p>
<p>There was a pause, and Tanya paled as she realised what she had said. The anger drained from her quickly and Aleksander made his move – there was never a more vulnerable time to strike than the moment where even a person’s righteous anger abandoned them. He stepped out into the small circle of flickering light, keeping some of the darkness clinging to him like tendrils, as though reluctant to let him go. No doubt in the darkness of the tunnels it would have looked like he had simply materialised from shadow, and the effect was not lost on Tanya. She looked as though she were about to faint; Aleksander grabbed her upper arms, digging his nails in hard, and slammed her roughly against the wall to bring her back to her senses. She screamed and he threw her to the side; she landed hard on the stone, cracking her knees painfully, but she didn’t appear to notice. No sooner had she landed did she try to get up again, and when her body wouldn’t cooperate with standing she simply made do with scrambling instead. Aleksander waited patiently, unconcerned as she vanished into the darkness – within a few seconds she had returned, pushing herself backwards with her feet, the flickering shapes of the <em>nichevo’ya</em> just visible beyond the line of darkness.</p>
<p>She was screaming near constantly, and Aleksander let her run out of breath before he spoke again.</p>
<p>“Listen to me,” he snapped, and she fell silent, her eyes fixed on his. “I know who you’re going to meet. You are going to tell me where.”</p>
<p>Aleksander had to respect her for shaking her head, even as her whole body shook. “I can’t.”</p>
<p>“You absolutely can.”</p>
<p>“I can’t betray them like that. You’ll kill them all.”</p>
<p>Aleksander gave a sharp smile. “If I’m feeling merciful.”</p>
<p>“W-What?” Tanya stammered. “What do you—?”</p>
<p>“Do you think death is the worst thing?” Aleksander asked. “There are many things they would find worse. The longer it takes me to find them, the more inclined I am to wish to see them suffer. You could help with that.”</p>
<p>“I can’t,” Tanya said, beginning to sob. “I can’t do that!”</p>
<p>Aleksander raised an eyebrow at Mikhail, who nodded and twitched his hand. Zhenya gave a low moan as she woke, sitting up in alarm as she realised something was going on. She had just enough time to begin to form a question before two shadowy arms reached out of the blackness behind her, dragging her out of sight in a blink. There was a sharp, wrenching scream that grew in pitch and then became ragged; with a sudden wet tearing, it was cut off abruptly.</p>
<p>Tanya screamed again, burying her face in her hands.</p>
<p>“Last chance,” Aleksander said calmly. “I should tell you they don’t actually fear the light. Would you like some further encouragement?”</p>
<p>She shook her head, her face still hidden. She didn’t see the <em>nichevo’ya</em> as it crawled towards her, as always looking more horrific in the light. It kept low, pulling itself across the ground in a disturbing caricature of human movement, before reaching up and grabbing Tanya’s wrist almost gently. Tanya jerked her head back and saw it watching her, the blackness of its eyes unmistakeably on her face, and Aleksander thought she might scream again if only she had the air to do so.</p>
<p>“Where are you going?” Aleksander asked lowly.</p>
<p>Tanya couldn’t drag her eyes away from the creature, her chest heaving.</p>
<p>“<em>Where</em>,” Aleksander stressed, “are you <em>going</em>?”</p>
<p>The <em>nichevo’ya</em> reacted to the anger in his words, bearing its needle-like teeth. Several others swarmed close to the darkness’s edge, peering out at Tanya; some of them had blood dripping from mouths and claws.</p>
<p>“I can’t—”</p>
<p>The <em>nichevo’ya</em> lunged at her, teeth snapping, and Tanya fell back against the floor, its teeth inches from her face.</p>
<p>“Saronezh!” she screamed. “We were told to meet at Saronezh! I don’t know what’s there or where we’re going from there – I just know it’s a small town or a village or something, it isn’t big at all, it’s barely on any maps! I don’t know anything else, I <em>swear</em>, we were just told to meet there and then we would go somewhere else but I don’t know where that is!”</p>
<p>“Hm,” Aleksander said to Peter and Mikhail. “They seem to have some operational security, then.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know anything else,” Tanya insisted. “I don’t, I swear!”</p>
<p>“Nothing at all?” Aleksander asked, as the <em>nichevo’ya</em> snapped at her again.</p>
<p>“No!” she said, the word drawing out into a sob. “I don’t, I don’t!”</p>
<p>“No,” Aleksander said thoughtfully. “I don’t think you do. Never mind. You’ve been very helpful, Tanya.”</p>
<p>He nodded to the Heartrenders; Mikhail struck the torch against the damp floor, extinguishing the flame in a puddle of standing water and plunging them into darkness. At the same moment there was a gasp, and as Aleksander moved away he heard the beginning of Viktor’s questions.</p>
<p>He gave them all of ten seconds before setting the <em>nichevo’ya</em> loose. The screams seemed somehow louder in the dark.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Here, let me help you.”</p>
<p>Alina knelt down beside Svetlana, taking an item from the miscellaneous pile of robes beside her and dunking it into the cold river water. The water was so clear and cool; Alina loved to watch the light from the lamps flickering on its surface, and sometimes she was sure she could see tiny fish swimming where the water was deeper and calmer, all brief flashes of silver or bright blue. The water was cold enough that it quickly numbed her hands, but she found she didn’t mind. It took her mind off the various other aches and complaints her body had, and wrestling the laundry as it billowed and flared in the water gave her mind something to do, too.</p>
<p>“You shouldn’t concern yourself with such things, Sankta,” Svetlana said, but there was no real scolding in her voice. “I thought you were in reflection.”</p>
<p>“I was,” Alina said, before giving the other woman a guilty smile. “I just prefer to work. I know I shouldn’t, but I find it’s better for concentrating if I can do something with my hands.”</p>
<p>“You’re quite right, of course,” Svetlana said. “Did you know that was how I realised the truth? I realised all of this when I was working with another group. I would peel and chop vegetables for hours every day, in preparation for dinner, and that was when I started to realise.”</p>
<p>It was one of those strange things that Alina could believe about Svetlana, even as everything about the woman hinted it should be impossible. Svetlana looked like the kind of person who would never lower herself to such manual tasks – despite the fact she dressed plainly she was very pretty for an <em>otkazat’sya</em> woman, and she had the haughty attitude to match. Alina supposed Svetlana reminded her in some ways of Zoya, and she certainly couldn’t ever imagine Zoya doing her own washing or chopping potatoes. Despite her prettiness and her haughtiness, though, Svetlana seemed genuinely humble in some respects – at the very least, Alina could believe she meant it when she talked about hard work and pain being the things to lead to enlightenment or purification or whatever the word of the day was. It seemed that when it came to hard work, at least, Svetlana could put her money where her mouth was. Alina had never asked about the pain aspect, but she did notice that Svetlana always wore long sleeves.</p>
<p>“Well, I’m glad you did,” Alina said, being careful not to lay on the appreciation too thick. “Or is that silly of me to say? I’m still not entirely happy about how much I ache, but I suppose there’s a kind of enjoyment in it now.”</p>
<p>“As I said there would be,” Svetlana said knowingly. “I bet it feels better when you’re working. It’s a different kind of pain, when you work with it. I don’t think it’s good to rest for too long when injured. It leads to self-pity.”</p>
<p>“We can agree on that much,” Alina said, smiling as she let the robe fan out in the water. “There’s something almost addicting about this cold water. It hurts, but I kind of like being so aware of my hands. If that makes sense.” She gave a shy laugh. “I’m aware I still don’t know what I’m talking about.”</p>
<p>“You’re learning,” Svetlana told her. “It’s a relief, that you’re a fast learner. Once you snapped out of whatever had come over you… I’m sorry, Sankta. I know it’s an unpleasant subject.”</p>
<p>Alina had allowed her face to darken at the mention of it, as she always did when somebody alluded to the hold that Aleksander had apparently had over her, that she had apparently miraculously snapped out of when she had regained consciousness. It was lucky that she associated the whole thing with the torture of the whip more than anything else – the anger was a good substitute for pain. It darkened her features in the same way.</p>
<p>“I was so… I don’t know,” she sighed. “I can’t believe I was so stupid. I won’t forgive myself. I can understand perhaps a short while, but <em>years</em>? I think of all the damage I’ve done and I just want to scream.”</p>
<p>She hauled the robe angrily out of the water, laying it flat on the stone and beginning to roll it over to squeeze the water out.</p>
<p>“Peace, Sankta,” Svetlana said patiently. “How were you to know? What were you to do? You needed a guiding hand that simply wasn’t there at the time. If anything, you should be angry at that prince. I don’t know if I entirely believe everything he was saying. If he was really being used in such a way, why didn’t he try to bring you with him?”</p>
<p>“I think he believed it,” Alina said quietly, as though admitting it was shameful for her. “I think he believed that I was really… you know, that I was acting in my own power. That I’d actually sided with… with <em>him</em>. I don’t know. I can hardly blame Nikolai, can I? He saw nothing to the contrary. But I feel sick, thinking about all the friends I had who hate me now.”</p>
<p>“You’re so forgiving,” Svetlana sighed fondly. “It’s one of your purest qualities. But you shouldn’t worry yourself. Once we spread the truth around, they’ll hear it. They’ll understand.”</p>
<p>“What if they don’t believe it?” Alina asked. “What if they think I’m just trying to get out of it?”</p>
<p>“How could they?” Svetlana asked, looking at her. “The change in you is undeniable. You were so… forgive me, Sankta, but you were almost <em>feral</em> when you first got here. You wouldn’t hear a word of sense. You were violent and insulting. It was like you were possessed – and in some ways you were! Now you’re more like yourself again. This is the young woman that they’ll remember. When they see <em>you</em> again, they’ll wonder how they ever thought the previous version was anything to do with you. I’m sure they’ll feel guilty themselves, for being capable of believing it of you! You couldn’t hurt a fly.”</p>
<p><em>If only you knew</em>, Alina thought, allowing a small smile to pass over her face.</p>
<p>“I hope so,” she said, sighing. “I worry about it so much. About how I’ll show my face again. When do you think I’ll be ready to do so? I really can’t even imagine it.”</p>
<p>“You won’t be ready to face outsiders for some time yet,” Svetlana confirmed, and Alina let her shoulders slump as though in relief, letting out a nervous laugh. “But you will be prepared by then. More people are trying to join us – we will have a sizeable congregation by the time you’re ready to face the world. We will have the faith and the numbers we need.”</p>
<p>“Sister Svetlana,” Alina began – Svetlana had allowed her to drop the more formal <em>Priestess </em>title almost immediately, “I don’t want to appear impatient, but you have to understand it’s a concern of mine. When will I be able to use my power again? I feel so lost without it, and sometimes I worry that it’s distracting me too much.”</p>
<p>“Patience,” Svetlana advised gently. “The time will come soon enough. You have to understand that we need to be absolutely sure it’s safe for you to use your power. It is a direct link to the Heretic; we don’t know if he will be able to use it or somehow trace it from a distance. We need to ensure that precautions are in place, and we need to be sure you will stand against him.”</p>
<p>“Of course I will!” Alina said, affronted. “Do you think I would just—”</p>
<p>“Sankta,” Svetlana said, laughing. “Please. I meant no disrespect. It wouldn’t be <em>your</em> fault, if you hesitated. He still has a measure of control over you. It’s evil power, beyond your understanding. We need to make sure you would be able to overcome anything he tried. Remember how deluded he had you before? We would never want anything even remotely like that to happen again.”</p>
<p>Alina nodded, pausing for a moment as though letting the anger drain from her.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” she eventually said. “I got a little defensive. I suppose I just miss using my power – it’s making me impatient. I know you know best, but…” She trailed off, swallowing. “I just miss even <em>seeing</em> the sun. It feels like part of me is gone. I know it probably sounds ridiculous, but it’s like missing a friend.”</p>
<p>“It doesn’t sound ridiculous at all,” Svetlana said sympathetically. “It makes sense. The sun is the source of your divinity, Sankta. Naturally you will miss it. I didn’t like the thought of bringing you so far underground – it seemed almost blasphemous, if I’m honest. But we had to hide ourselves well.”</p>
<p>“I understand,” Alina said sadly. “I’ll try to be patient.”</p>
<p>Svetlana seemed thoughtful, so Alina worked in silence for a while, letting her think over whatever she was occupied with. She had spent a lot of time with Svetlana over the last five or six days, drinking in her every word, not complaining whenever she was passed over when food or drink was handed out. Alina had been a model Saint, standing attentively at sermons, insisting on meeting the congregation even when her legs were so tired she could barely stand up. She hadn’t complained about anything – not her hunger, her thirst, her aches, any of the slowly healing wounds over her body. Her back was still a mess – she could feel how bad it still was – but she wore her light shirts and moved freely, as though she couldn’t feel the wounds pulling and the blood seeping into the fabric. She was calm and serene, grasping hands and kissing heads and wearing that same beatific smile that so often adorned Svetlana’s face; she listened to everything Svetlana had to say, asked thoughtful questions or voiced worries as appropriate, and she hadn’t slipped up once. It was shocking, how easy it was once she committed – Aleksander had been right when he said these people <em>wanted</em> to believe it of her. Now any restrictions on her were for security reasons rather than reasons of distrust, and Alina was hoping she could work with it. She was still forbidden from the surface, of course, but she was now free to roam the tunnels as she pleased, and she was no longer left in restraints.</p>
<p>She had made a point of sticking close to Svetlana whenever she could, as though she had attached herself to her in some way. She could tell Svetlana enjoyed this apparent favouritism, but she did a good job of not showing it, instead acting as though it were right and expected that her Saint should wish to spend all her time with her. Alina would have thought it arrogant, if Svetlana didn’t seem so genuinely grateful and humbled by it every time.</p>
<p>“I would be willing to allow you a brief look at the surface,” Svetlana suddenly said, “if you would consent to a few security measures.”</p>
<p>Alina looked at her, eyes wide with hope. “You would? When?”</p>
<p>“Well,” Svetlana said, gesturing to the robes with a smile. “These need to dry, and while it isn’t damp down here it <em>is</em> cold. It’s easier to dry them on the surface, at the side of the chapel.”</p>
<p><em>The chapel</em>, Alina thought triumphantly. <em>I knew it would be below a chapel. Unpredictable Ravka can be trusted to be predictable in some areas, at least.</em></p>
<p>“I would do anything necessary,” Alina said breathlessly. “I just want to see the sun, Sister Svetlana. Even if only for a moment.”</p>
<p>“You will need to have your hands tied,” Svetlana warned. “I don’t think you would deliberately try anything, but you might not be able to help yourself.”</p>
<p>“Of course,” Alina said. “I thought as much.”</p>
<p>“And we won’t be able to spend long up there. Just as long as it takes to bring everything out. Someone will hang it up for us. Can I trust you to be satisfied with that much?”</p>
<p>Alina nodded enthusiastically. “Just a glimpse. Even a single moment. That’s all I ask for.”</p>
<p>Svetlana studied her for a moment, and then nodded. “Go and find Matvey. He will tie your hands properly, and you can meet me back here.”</p>
<p>“Thank you!” Alina said, spontaneously grabbing her hand and kissing it. “Thank you, Sister Svetlana. I can’t say how grateful I am.”</p>
<p>Svetlana smiled, squeezing her hand before letting it go. “Go on. Quickly, now.”</p>
<p>Alina nodded, getting to her feet and hurrying across the large expanse of the main hall. Her clothing was damp from the washing, but she hardly noticed as she reached the raised stone that made up the makeshift stage. She had learned her way around decently by now, spending as much time following Svetlana around as she did, and so she knew the places that Matvey would be likely to spend his time. He usually occupied himself with general tasks or study, and when she didn’t find him in the storage room organising the evening’s food, she headed further down the passage to where he kept his room.</p>
<p>The passage was lit at wider intervals than some of the others closer to the main hall, and that was probably why Alina didn’t see the approaching figure until they had nearly walked into one another. She gasped in shock and then gave a nervous laugh, leaning back against the wall to let the person pass.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” she said. “I suppose I wasn’t paying attention.”</p>
<p>The person looked up, seeming so lost in his own thought that it took him a moment to catch up with what Alina said. He gave a small smile and shook his hair from his face, and Alina barely stifled another gasp. She managed it, which was impressive when she considered the sight in front of her.</p>
<p>“Sankta Alina,” he said, bowing his head slightly. He kept his eyes on hers, to disconcerting effect. She could see the fondness in his face, in one green-brown eye. The other eye was unreadable – it was completely and totally black.</p>
<p>“Vasya,” she said quietly. “They told me—well, they didn’t say much, but they mentioned—”</p>
<p>“I can hide it if it upsets you, Sankta,” Vasya said. There was something strange about his voice, Alina thought – it was lacking the usual tone present when people offered things to her, as though they were far too eager to place. Vasya sounded much more matter-of-fact, as though he knew she would refuse him.</p>
<p>“It’s alright,” Alina said. “It just—they didn’t tell me.”</p>
<p>He could sense her curiosity; he turned his face slightly towards the light, and Alina could see it was as she’d suspected. The blackness in the man’s eye wasn’t ordinary darkness – it wasn’t the darkness that could come from the shadows of an empty socket. The eye <em>itself</em> was black, so black that the light from the lamp didn’t even dance across it. It was the darkness of the Fold, of the <em>nichevo’ya</em>’s eyes.</p>
<p>How should she react? What would this persona make of it? Alina supposed she would be shocked, which was accurate enough, but would she feel bad? Would she try to offer comfort? She didn’t know.</p>
<p>“It’s alright, Sankta,” Vasya said quietly. “I don’t mind it.”</p>
<p>“How can you not mind it?” Alina asked, falling back on what she thought Svetlana might think of it – with a little of her own sympathy, of course. No doubt Svetlana had been much more harsh. “Surely everyone thinks it’s a sign of… well, that’s why I haven’t seen you, isn’t it? Are they keeping you out of the way?”</p>
<p>Vasya shook his head. “I keep myself out of the way.”</p>
<p>“You don’t have to feel ashamed, Vasya. This happened to you because of me. I can talk to them, I can make them see that.”</p>
<p>“There’s no need,” Vasya said, smiling. He seemed somehow more distant, as though his mind had already drifted back to where it had been before. “They wouldn’t understand. Power like that… they could never understand…” He snapped back to the present, as though suddenly remembering Alina was there, and his face became suddenly serious, almost urgent. He grabbed her hand and pulled her closer, and Alina was too stunned to even cry out. “Perhaps you were right, Sankta. There is much I don’t understand about power. How could I?” He looked at her, his normal eye bright, fervent. “Like calls to like.”</p>
<p>“Vasya!”</p>
<p>Vasya dropped her hand like it had burned him, gave her a thin smile, and quickly hurried away down the hallway. He had vanished into the shadows by the time Matvey reached Alina’s side.</p>
<p>“Was he bothering you, Sankta?” Matvey asked. “I should have kept a closer eye on him.”</p>
<p>“He wasn’t bothering me,” Alina said, blinking away her confusion. “He didn’t make a lot of sense, if I’m honest. Was he driven mad?”</p>
<p>“It’s a possibility,” Matvey said. “Or it’s a corrupting influence. I think that might be more likely. Meditation will help him, as well as purification.”</p>
<p>Alina felt her stomach drop, but she kept it from her face.</p>
<p>“You <em>mustn’t</em> be too harsh on him, Matvey,” she pleaded. “He’s probably just confused. You have no idea what kinds of things the Darkling can do. He gets into your head.”</p>
<p>“Which is precisely why we must do what we must,” Matvey said. “It succeeded with you, Sankta. You shouldn’t wish to deprive him. He was one of our most devout.”</p>
<p>“Was?”</p>
<p>“He has been saying increasingly strange things,” Matvey said darkly. “Why the Heretic let him go I have no idea, but I will be keeping a close watch on him.”</p>
<p>“Was he injured in any other way?” Alina asked. It would be odd for Aleksander to let him go relatively unscathed; she couldn’t help her curiosity.</p>
<p>“Not that we could see,” Matvey said. “But you know how the Heretic is, with all his bloodletters. There could just be no evidence left.”</p>
<p>They watched the passage where Vasya had vanished for a moment, and then Matvey seemed to shake himself out of his mood.</p>
<p>“You were coming to find me, Sankta?” he asked.</p>
<p>“Oh! Yes,” Alina said, finding she had somehow genuinely forgotten.</p>
<p>She quickly explained the situation and Matvey nodded; before long Alina found herself enduring the discomfort of the restraints again, but her hands were still numb from the cold river water and so it wasn’t as unbearable as she remembered. Not to mention the fact that she knew she would only have to put up with it for a little while – and the payoff could be great. She felt a flicker of anxiety as they approached Svetlana again – what if Aleksander was busy? What if she couldn’t call him this time? She had mastered calling him well enough now – consciously, at any rate – but she still worried that she would somehow forget everything she had learned at the most important moment. She swallowed, forcing the nerves from her face as Svetlana met them, her arms laden with the sodden clothing.</p>
<p>“Take some of this for me, would you, Matvey?” she asked. “Just enough that I can actually see over the top of it.”</p>
<p>There was something almost endearing about Svetlana’s flushed face, more visible once Matvey had taken the top half of the pile and allowed Svetlana to see over it without craning her neck. She looked so <em>normal</em>, Alina thought – just another peasant wife doing her daily chores, and part of Alina wished that this was real. As must as she didn’t want it, as much as she wanted to be back with Aleksander, where she belonged, there was a tug in her chest that made her wish this was legitimate – that she belonged here, too. It was a sign she had done her job well, or at least that was what Aleksander told her when she had first confided the strange feeling in him. He had seemed almost sad, she thought – but that made sense, considering what he had said.</p>
<p>“You grew up with nowhere to belong,”  he had told her. “Even when you have a place, you will still find yourself longing for other places.”</p>
<p>“Why?” she had asked.</p>
<p>“Insurance,” Aleksander had replied, with a thin smile. “If something goes wrong in one place, you want to know you’ll never feel alone again.”</p>
<p>With that in mind the feeling felt like a betrayal to Aleksander, like she didn’t trust him, didn’t trust that she belonged with him. She pushed the strange longing away, forcing herself to think about the reality, about what she was going to the surface to do.</p>
<p>She hadn’t been lying about one thing – she was looking forward to seeing the sky again. There was something inherently depressing about being stuck underground for so long, with nothing but the weight of stone and earth above her – and try as she might, she could never completely relax and believe that the whole place wouldn’t just cave in. What if there was an earthquake? What if the stone just protested to being lived in like this? Most of the larger caverns were natural, chiselled out by the river over the centuries, but the stairs and some of the smaller rooms were clearly manmade. Alina wasn’t a Fabrikator, but she knew enough to know that she didn’t like the thought of that.</p>
<p>The stairs they were ascending now were steep, and Alina was embarrassed to find she quickly grew out of breath. It wasn’t the normal kind of breathlessness she could expect from climbing many steep stairs, either – it reminded her of her days in the First Army, when she would lag behind everyone else even without a pack. (She forced herself not to think about all the times Mal had taken her pack for her, too.) Her side burned with a stitch, and she could taste something metallic in the back of her throat whenever she breathed in. By the time they reached the top, Alina was so focused on catching her breath that for a moment she paid no attention to her surroundings. They walked down a short hallway, climbed three more stairs, slipped around the side of what turned out to be a large stone pillar, and when Alina looked up again she was standing in a chapel.</p>
<p>For a moment, she even forgot her breathlessness. The chapel was beautiful, despite the fact it had clearly been abandoned for some time. Part of the ceiling had caved in towards the back, but the rubble had obviously been meticulously cleared, as there was no sign of it and plants were springing up through where the impact of falling stone had cracked the floor. Vines grew up many of the walls, seeming to pour in from the hole in the ceiling and spread out; the stonework was crumbling in places and some of the windows had fallen in, but most of the chapel appeared to be in working order. Looking around, it was clear that a clean-up operation had been in place for some time – the floors were scrubbed, the remaining windows cleaned of moss and grime from the rain, the pews arranged neatly and everything left on the altar shining in the glints of light making their way through the stained glass window at the head of the room. Alina turned slowly, taking it all in, her eyes falling on the large window above the altar. It alone of the others was still grimy; Svetlana saw her looking and laughed.</p>
<p>“We haven’t got to that one yet,” she explained. “We only just made a ladder tall enough to reach the whole thing. If there’s anything worse than a dirty window, it’s a half-clean one.”</p>
<p>“It faces the sunrise,” Alina said quietly. She didn’t know how she knew – the sun was high in the sky by now – but somehow she just did.</p>
<p>“It does,” Svetlana said, with a pleased smile.</p>
<p>“It will look incredible when it’s clean,” Alina said, finding herself disappointed that she probably wouldn’t get to see it. “With all the light coming through the colours in the glass. The whole room will glow.”</p>
<p>“Whoever originally commissioned this place knew what they were talking about,” Svetlana agreed.</p>
<p>“I didn’t realise it was going to be abandoned. I wondered if we were below a chapel, but I didn’t think it would be anything like this.”</p>
<p>“Are you disappointed to find it in such disrepair?”</p>
<p>“No,” Alina said, laughing. “I’d keep it like this, if it wouldn’t be a nightmare in the winter.”</p>
<p>She wanted to ask more about the chapel, perhaps try and tease some clues as to its name or location, but there was no way to do it without it being obvious. Alina would have to behave herself and arouse no suspicion at all if she ever wanted to come back up here again – if it wasn’t for the necessity of keeping her hands tied, she would have offered then and there to clean the window herself. The thought reminded her of the fact, and she found herself instinctively flexing her hands, trying to see if there was any give in the restraints. Of course there wasn’t – there never was, with Matvey, and she always wondered where he had learned to tie hands in that specific way – but she couldn’t stop herself from continuing to try, even when it began to hurt. Svetlana noticed and tapped her hand, shaking her head.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Alina said. “I don’t even realise I’m doing it. It’s natural for me – with all this light, I can’t help myself.”</p>
<p>“Patience,” Svetlana advised her again. “Soon enough, Sankta.”</p>
<p>She nodded, but her impatience was genuine. The light was all around her now; she could feel it calling to her, desperate to return to her, and she couldn’t help but answer it. She followed Svetlana away from the pillar and out into the main church, concentrating on stilling her hands with such force that she didn’t notice Svetlana and Matvey had stopped at first; that they were looking back at her like they might be about to cry. Alina blinked at them, confused, and then it dawned on her – she might not be able to move her hands, but with two amplifiers that was hardly going to stop all of it. Her skin with alight with a soft golden glow.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” she said again, bowing her head. “This happens sometimes. I can try and make it stop, if it isn’t allowed.”</p>
<p>Svetlana and Matvey were quiet for a moment, and then Svetlana shook her head.</p>
<p>“No,” she said quietly. “I think it’s fine as it is.”</p>
<p>It was the perfect distraction – whenever they glanced back at her Alina knew they could only see the light; if they noticed the thoughtful look on her face they likely assumed it was to do with the light, or her holiness, or whatever else they came up with that Alina couldn’t even hope to guess at. With some of her power flowing back through her and the attention of her captors elsewhere – because they <em>were</em> her captors, she had forgotten that strange moment of endearment the second the light had returned to her and she had remembered who she was – Alina found it easy to find the connection again, to give an urgent and excited tug on it.</p>
<p>She had just enough time to worry that it might be a bad time for Aleksander, or that something might have happened that would necessitate his staying where he was, but the fears were unfounded. Almost instantly he was beside her, looking at her with the same amount of urgency that she felt; she said nothing, only nodded to her arm, and he rested his hand on it in a loose grip. She saw the moment the room snapped into focus around him – his face flickered with surprise and then settled into that confident concentration that always came over him when he knew he was onto something. Alina felt a flicker of something – excitement, fear, apprehension, perhaps all of them – and made sure to look around like she was still taking in the view, showing Aleksander everything she could think of that might provide a clue. Most obvious, of course, was the hole in the roof and chaotic growth of ivy.</p>
<p>“You’re brilliant,” Aleksander murmured, and it was lucky that he had said it just as Alina stepped outside – when she bowed her head slightly and smiled, nobody thought it odd.</p>
<p>Outside the view was stunning, the full riot of Ravka’s summer in bloom. The grass was long and filled with wildflowers, with only the vaguest outlines of paths through them where people had been coming back and forth from what looked like a vegetable garden – only in the loosest terms, as the patches were strewn between the shrubs and small trees wherever they could fit. Colour was everywhere, and Alina hadn’t realised how used to the muted greys she had grown: the flowers were the brightest things she had ever seen, the butterflies and bees so beautiful she could cry. The sky was a brilliant blue, scatterings of white cloud growing less frequent the further from the mountains she looked; the mountains dominated the horizon between the trees ahead of her, the land already growing steep just beyond the grounds of the chapel. There was a breeze coming from the direction of the mountains and Alina could hear a windchime somewhere, a sound both comforting and lonely.</p>
<p>“We must be really north,” Alina murmured quietly. “I think everything was abandoned because of the raids.”</p>
<p>“What makes you think so?” Aleksander asked.</p>
<p>“Just a feeling,” Alina said. “Doesn’t it feel the same way as those places do? Not immediately after, when everything is burning, but if you walk through after a few years. It just… feels abandoned in a way that wasn’t natural.”</p>
<p>Aleksander was looking towards the mountains, his eyes narrowed slightly. Slowly he turned, looking behind him at the chapel, and then as they rounded the corner to the front of the building Alina saw his eyes scanning quickly over the landscape, finally focusing on what looked to be the remnants of a small farmhouse a little further down the narrow valley.</p>
<p>Something flashed over his face.</p>
<p>“Do you recognise it?” Alina asked, just as Svetlana turned over her shoulder and called to her. She smiled and quickened her pace. “Sasha?”</p>
<p>“I think so,” Aleksander murmured. He was lost in thought; she didn’t want to disturb him, but they didn’t have much more time left to confer.</p>
<p>“Do you think—?”</p>
<p>“I need to confirm it,” Aleksander said, and Alina swallowed, forcing down the dread that rose in her. She knew what that meant.</p>
<p>“When will you be back?”</p>
<p>“I’ll call you as soon as I know what I’m doing,” Aleksander assured her. “If I’m right, it could be soon. Only answer me when you’re alone.”</p>
<p>Alina almost nodded, but stopped herself when she saw Svetlana and Matvey were both watching her.</p>
<p>“Don’t say anything else,” Aleksander said quietly. “I’ll be back soon.”</p>
<p>He was gone then, and Alina forced herself to continue walking forward without missing a step.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Eight miles!” Aleksander snapped, to nobody in particular. “Eight miles away this whole damn time!”</p>
<p>In a way it had been a good thing, even if there was something catastrophically unfair about having had Alina so close for all this time. The advantage was, of course, that as soon as they had confirmed the location it wouldn’t take them long to get there at all – with the <em>nichevo’ya</em>, they didn’t even have to saddle up the horses. It had been perhaps ten minutes since the location had been confirmed for certain, and already people were gathering in the manor’s large entrance hall, looking equal parts interested and wary.</p>
<p>Aleksander had gone immediately to the library after Alina had called him, finding Tolya and Tamar still poring over the maps. They had managed to locate a couple of old ones which showed the small village of Saronezh, but even by Ravkan standards it barely classified as a village. In the most recent maps – dated perhaps one hundred and fifty years ago – it was represented by a cluster of squares in a small huddle, perhaps a half dozen of them, and then several more scattered around individually. Translated from map-speak, Saronezh was perhaps six houses in a loose cluster, and then maybe another half-dozen farmhouses at various distances from that cluster. Knowing Ravka there was at least one tavern, and of course there was a chapel – three, in fact. Two of them were tiny, no more than peasant shacks with a shrine placed in them – this was denoted by no mark on the map indicating a dome, spire, cupola, or any decorative roofing at all. There was one, however, that had been shown with some more elaborate features – a dome, a small graveyard adjoining it. It was a slight walk from the village, being about a mile away, but Aleksander had bet that if Alina was going to be anywhere, it would be there. The chapel was old enough that it could be connected to a long-forgotten part of the tunnel system, and it was close enough to the Fjerdan border that it might need one.</p>
<p>“That explains why nobody bothered to put this place on the map anymore,” Aleksander had said, tapping his finger on a small gap in the topography that showed that between all the mountainous and hilly terrain, there was a narrow sweep of flatter ground. “I’ll bet Fjerdans have been using that route to come over the border and cause trouble since time began. Do you have any information on the church?”</p>
<p>“We couldn’t find much about it,” Tolya said, rubbing at his eyes. “There was one book that listed it, but it was one of those giant tomes that tried to list all the religious buildings in Ravka. There’s only a confirmation of the location, the priest in charge at the time, and the name of the Saint that the church was built for.”</p>
<p>“So who were our friends in Saronezh worshipping?”</p>
<p>“Sankt Ilya,” Tamar said wryly.</p>
<p>Aleksander couldn’t suppress a laugh. “I wonder if this is known to Svetlana and her pious congregation? Well, good that they don’t know. I’d hate to have them move on us.”</p>
<p>The confirmation from Alina had come at precisely the right time – Aleksander had been preparing to go out there and check anyway. For that reason most people were already aware that they would be needed for something soon, and by the time Aleksander gave the order for everyone to form up, most people had been milling around the entrance hall waiting to see what was going on. Aleksander wasn’t taking many people – Mikhail and Peter, of course, along with Tolya and Tamar, at their own insistence. With them were going the rest of Mikhail and Peter’s unit – Kseniya, a Healer; Isaak, a Tidemaker from Kerch with a talent for drowning people where they stood and managing to look rather bored while doing so; Kjetil, a Squaller from Fjerda who could have given Zoya Nazyalensky a run for her money back when she had been alive, and to her annoyance frequently had and no more so than that final time; and Natasha and Anna along with an extra, Harshaw, who together made up perhaps the most suicidal combination of Inferni that Aleksander had ever put together. Some of Aleksander’s <em>otkazat’sya</em> soldiers would accompany him to surround the area and prevent anyone from getting away, but Aleksander doubted they would be needed. Really, with the <em>nichevo’ya</em> at his command, he could probably go in there himself no trouble, but there was nothing saying that he wanted everyone to be dead quickly. Just under control.</p>
<p>There was only one thing left that he needed to do.</p>
<p>He found himself back in the now deserted library, sitting at the map-strewn desk. His entire body seemed to resist the inactivity, and Aleksander knew he was in the most dangerous part of the entire operation now – he could easily get ahead of himself, get anxious or impatient and overlook something important. He knew he logically didn’t have much to fear from a bunch of <em>otkazat’sya</em>, and with the <em>nichevo’ya</em> he didn’t really have much to fear from anyone – he could kill everyone in that place from two miles away if he wanted to, after all – but it was never wise to assume. He had assumed before, and it had led to mistakes. He forced himself to sit still, to calm his breathing, and then he leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes.</p>
<p>It was easy to go to her this time; almost instantaneous. He knew she must have been waiting for him, because she answered the call almost as soon as he made it and Aleksander found himself standing in that small stone cell so quickly that he felt momentarily disorientated. He knew the bewilderment must have shown on his face, because Alina let out a soft laugh.</p>
<p>“Was I too eager?” she asked, as he turned to face her.</p>
<p>“Not at all,” Aleksander said. “I know where you are.”</p>
<p>Alina’s eyes widened; for a moment she looked like she didn’t dare believe it.</p>
<p>“You’re sure?”</p>
<p>“I’m sure.”</p>
<p>“You managed to work it out from what you saw earlier?”</p>
<p>“It allowed me to confirm it,” Aleksander said, smiling. “I know I have an eye for things, Alina, but I’m not quite that good. There was other information to go on. But that’s for explaining later. Right now I need you to get everyone into the same area.”</p>
<p>Alina looked at him, something flickering over her face as she realised the implications. “You’re really going to kill all of them?”</p>
<p>“Perhaps not all of them,” Aleksander said. “Not right away, anyway.”</p>
<p>“But most of them.”</p>
<p>“Most likely,” Aleksander said dismissively. “Don’t tell me you’ve grown attached to them.”</p>
<p>“No,” Alina said, sighing. “No, nothing like that. I just wonder how many of them actually know what they’re getting into. Svetlana is… really something else.”</p>
<p>“They know what they’re getting into,” Aleksander said, hearing the edge creep into his voice. “They made their choice when they watched you get tortured in front of them and did nothing.”</p>
<p>Alina swallowed and looked up, nodding. “Alright.”</p>
<p>“Is there a way you can do this quickly?”</p>
<p>“There’s a service soon. After lunch – perhaps about an hour away. I’ll try and persuade them to let us have it in the chapel proper. I’ll spin some nonsense. If they’re not in there – if I don’t manage it – they’ll be down in the main chamber that you’ve seen before. It’s easy to get to. The entrance is behind the stone pillar on the right of the altar when you’re facing it. It’s pretty much a straight line, but there’s a lot of stairs.”</p>
<p>“Try and get them to the surface,” Aleksander said. “I don’t want to be entirely on their territory. It’s never wise; always better to draw an enemy out.”</p>
<p>“They’re all unarmed and they’re all <em>otkazat’sya</em>,” Alina said, raising an eyebrow. “What kind of trouble do you think you’ll get from them?”</p>
<p>“They’re zealots, too,” Aleksander replied. “You can never underestimate such people. And nobody this close to the border is unarmed, Alina.”</p>
<p>Alina gave a small frown and then nodded.</p>
<p>“Will you see anyone at lunch? Anyone you can ask?”</p>
<p>“I’ll be with Svetlana and Matvey.”</p>
<p>“Contact me if you’ll be below ground. Otherwise I’ll assume you’ll be in the chapel. Alina?”</p>
<p>“Yes?”</p>
<p>“When I attack, get to my side as fast as you can. I don’t want to take any risks with you.”</p>
<p>She nodded again, and for a moment they looked at one another, Aleksander struggling to keep himself from saying anything more. He didn’t truly <em>think</em> that there was any real danger to her, but it was never wise to pretend that anyone was above risk in such a situation. He knew what zealots were like; he could imagine how insane they might become if they were threatened with something like what Aleksander was going to bring down on them. He had seen similar things before – he had seen Fjerdan fathers and husbands kill their entire families right down to the baby in its crib before they would let them even risk falling into Grisha hands. He had seen countless Fjerdan soldiers kill themselves rather than surrender to the Second Army. For all he knew, Svetlana might somehow get word of what he was planning and have everyone kill themselves – and it was doubtful they would leave Alina for him to find.</p>
<p>He reached over, cupping her cheek with his hand, and kissed her quickly.</p>
<p>“Get to me as fast as you can,” he told her again.</p>
<p>“Be careful,” she whispered.</p>
<p>He nodded, and threw himself back down the connection before he could say anything else.</p>
<p>The hour passed more slowly than Aleksander would have liked, but between everything that he had to consider before leaving on an operation even this comparatively small in terms of numbers there was thankfully enough to keep him from becoming too distracted. It seemed that everyone sensed that he was on edge, because nobody did much more than stand around quietly talking, waiting to be addressed or receive orders – usually Aleksander found people were rowdier the closer it got to deploying, but apparently the gravity of the situation had impressed itself upon everyone – including, to Aleksander’s surprise, Harshaw. It was more unnerving, he thought, to see Harshaw so <em>still</em>. At least one thing hadn’t changed – the Inferni was still striking his flint against everything he passed, curling the flames around his hand like intricate ribbons.</p>
<p>“The plan is simple,” Aleksander told them all, once the time was almost up. “There is one confirmed entrance at the south side of the building, where the door is either left open or locked normally. The front entrance I’m not too sure about – it could have been centuries since they were last opened, and the roof immediately behind them has caved in, meaning the structure might be warped and harder to open. You can feel free to use force with that one. There will be no need to discretion by this point.”</p>
<p>He saw a dark look pass over most faces present – only Peter and Mikhail managed to keep theirs under control, being more used to the <em>nichevo’ya</em> than most, and of course Harshaw didn’t register any discomfort whatsoever, being as he was somehow inexplicably unbothered by the creatures.</p>
<p>“There will be some indiscriminate killing,” Aleksander said matter-of-factly, “just to establish control. Beyond the initial attack I would prefer it if you kept some people alive for questioning. There are two people in particular that you are not to kill. They are to be brought to me alive, but not necessarily uninjured.”</p>
<p>He gave brief descriptions of Svetlana and Matvey, with Matvey’s description needing much less time thanks to his considerable size. Aleksander distinctly heard somebody – Kjetil, from the sounds of it – mutter the words <em>poor bastards</em>.</p>
<p>“We go in, we hit them hard, and we get Alina,” Aleksander said, forcing his voice to remain the same kind of neutral it had retained during the rest of the briefing. “Once we have her safe, we can turn our attention to the prisoners. Is everyone clear?”</p>
<p>There were murmurs of agreement; a few nods. Harshaw just smirked at the ground, where he was sitting and striking the flint against various stones.</p>
<p>“Form up,” Aleksander said simply, and drew the shadows close.</p>
<p>Nobody particularly liked travelling with the <em>nichevo’ya</em>, and Aleksander knew that much wouldn’t change. Still, there had been a marked improvement since he had started teaching everyone the art of travelling with them – it was something he had reserved only for his closest units at first, but gradually he was extending the training to everyone. It was simply the most convenient way to travel when speed was required, or places were particularly tricky to access. The <em>nichevo’ya</em> were also capable of gliding into a place completely silently, and speed and stealth were a requirement with such operations as this one. Despite the convenience and the necessity he knew that everyone present – aside from, perhaps, Harshaw – would be much more eager to trek through the midday heat and walk the entire eight miles, but in Aleksander’s experience soldiers recovered from a little nerves faster than they did from dehydration and heatstroke.</p>
<p>Not to mention, of course, the fact that they all needed to learn to suck it up.</p>
<p>Thankfully eight miles was nothing for the <em>nichevo’ya</em>; they made good time, and the combination of rapid flight and hellish creatures was mercifully a short one. Only Harshaw looked slightly disappointed when the <em>nichevo’ya</em> dived for the tall grass behind the abandoned farmhouse, though he looked to have recovered from it when the <em>nichevo’ya</em> dissipated beneath his feet and he managed to pull off a near perfect landing, stumbling only slightly as his feet met the ground at running speed. It was an encouraging sign that everyone managed to remain on their feet at the landing, despite some stumbling more than others – Aleksander didn’t mind so much if his soldiers hated the <em>nichevo’ya</em>, so long as they could work with them.</p>
<p>“Holy Mother of Djel,” Kjetil muttered, shaking his hair out and retying it.</p>
<p>“I don’t think she had anything to do with that,” Natasha replied wryly, and Kjetil snorted.</p>
<p>Aleksander had memorised the map; he looked around mentally matching everything to the squares and symbols that had been on the page. He would have known it to be the same place even if he didn’t have what Alina had shown him, but with what he had seen earlier there was no denying it. From this angle, slightly downhill from the chapel, he could see the grounds and where he and Alina had walked past the front of the chapel; turning, he could see the ground turning hilly behind him, the mountains in the near distance. He raised his hand again, giving a quick and precise twist of his wrist; behind him he heard murmurs as anyone a few feet away appeared to vanish.</p>
<p>“We move carefully,” Aleksander told them, his voice low. “We stay discrete until we get close. I have you all hidden from view. Kjetil, take an even group and get in through the front. The rest of you go to the side. The <em>nichevo’ya</em> will be your cue.”</p>
<p>He kept everyone moving slowly for now, both in case of lookouts and also to ensure that Alina had had enough time to either persuade everyone to gather in the chapel, or let him know they would be underground. He was sure the time had elapsed by now, and Alina hadn’t told him otherwise – he supposed it might not have been as difficult as first thought. Svetlana had no reason to suspect Alina any longer, and any suspicion she did have didn’t come from any flaw in Alina’s person. Svetlana believed that it had all been Aleksander’s doing – that Alina had been corrupted by him, poisoned by him, controlled by him. As far as Svetlana was concerned, the quiet, obedient Alina was the real one, and even if she <em>did</em> suspect something, how could she anticipate this? Nobody knew about the link he and Alina shared. Nobody would guess that they could communicate in such a way, that they could be present, unseen to anyone but the other.</p>
<p>It was about as straightforward a plan as Aleksander had ever had, and perhaps that was why he was so suspicious of it. Part of it must be nerves – he had never had so much at stake before – but there was something else, a feeling in his gut that he couldn’t ignore. It had happened before, and with as much experience as he had, he knew it was worth listening to; the problem was it was never straightforward. There was no particular part of the plan that was causing the unease. He simply knew it couldn’t be so simple, and he was on the alert for anything that might provide more answers.</p>
<p>The slope steepened sharply, briefly obscuring a decent view of the chapel, but then they were fanning out at the top, the chapel only a few hundred feet in front of them. Aleksander scanned the grounds at the side, trying to see if anybody was tending to the land, but it seemed that everyone was inside. As they grew closer he was sure he could hear the murmur of voices, and the closer he got the clearer it was – the indistinct mumbling of several people speaking at once.</p>
<p>There was something particularly cruel about attacking people at prayer; Aleksander was willing to admit that much. Even so, it was such a convenient time, and when Aleksander considered everything these people had done in the name of their faith he thought it was only a fitting reply. He lifted the shadows from them abruptly, revealing everyone spread out in a loose row; as the shadows darkened and took form above their heads Kjetil struck out in one direction, roughly half going with him, and the rest headed for the side door. Kjetil raised his arms and Aleksander felt the wind strengthen, whipping through his hair as it raced towards the Squaller; the heavy doors to the chapel groaned, and with a snap and a loud crash they blew in at the same second as the <em>nichevo’ya</em> dived through the hole in the chapel’s roof.</p>
<p>By the time Aleksander entered the chapel himself, it was clear that even if the inhabitants had had some kind of weaponry or defence strategy, it would still have been over before it started. Aleksander had gone for sheer numbers for a reason – with that many Grisha on all sides, and the walls literally black with the crawling forms of the <em>nichevo’ya</em>, anyone with an idea that they wanted to fight would have quickly given up. Aleksander walked almost leisurely through the chaos, stepping neatly over any major slicks of blood or gore on the ground, and carefully swept an eye around the room. Several people had managed to cram themselves mostly out of sight underneath pews – not that hiding did much good with that many Heartrenders around – and the rest seemed to be huddled in a far corner by the altar, having clearly been cut off as they’d tried to get back underground. None of them were anyone Aleksander had to worry about, considering the fact that if any of them tried to move an inch from where they were standing, one of the <em>nichevo’ya</em> would be quite happy to demonstrate what a bad idea that was.</p>
<p>Svetlana hadn’t moved, of course. Aleksander could see her standing before the altar, watching him quite calmly. Alina stood next to her, but there was no chance of her getting to Aleksander’s side – Matvey had a firm hold on her, and Aleksander fought the urge to roll his eyes. He stopped at the end of the aisle, just before the couple of steps leading up to the altar, and then he looked at Svetlana questioningly.</p>
<p>“High Priestess,” he said, quite politely.</p>
<p>To his right he heard an outbreak of what sounded distinctly like muttered prayers; he found he didn’t have the patience for it any longer. He sent a sharp look in the direction of one of the Heartrenders and somebody let out a yelp. The rest, getting the hint, fell silent – or at least prayed quietly enough that Aleksander didn’t have to hear it.</p>
<p>“Heretic,” Svetlana said coolly.</p>
<p>“Yes, yes,” Aleksander said. “Tell me, so we waste no more time. Are you going to be sensible, or are you going to make this unpleasant?”</p>
<p>“You are not the kind of person to show mercy, Heretic,” Svetlana said. “Does my choice matter?”</p>
<p>“Of course,” Aleksander replied. “If you cooperate, I’ll kill you quickly.”</p>
<p>“So generous,” Svetlana said.</p>
<p>“I did think so, myself.”</p>
<p>“I will never give her back to you.”</p>
<p>Aleksander could see in her eyes that she was serious. These people were quite incredible, in their own way. Foolish as it was, Aleksander couldn’t help but admire their conviction. Even the group of survivors cowering in the corner remained silent; there was no begging, no pleading, no whimpering. Aside from the whispered prayers they were still and calm. Aleksander could think of many people who had met their deaths far more terribly than these people were going to.</p>
<p>“Why don’t you let her decide?” Aleksander asked, tilting his head slightly. “I was told of your plan for her. If it worked, surely you shouldn’t fear testing the theory?”</p>
<p>“She is not a dog to play games with,” Svetlana snapped.</p>
<p>Aleksander laughed. “And yet you beat her like one, to correct her behaviour.”</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” Svetlana said.</p>
<p>“My offer stands regardless,” Aleksander replied. “Let Alina decide. If you’ve done your job so well, I’m sure she’ll be happy to stay up there with you. Or do you think I’ll snatch her away the second you let go? I assure you that you don’t need to release her for me to be able to snatch her away.”</p>
<p>Svetlana turned her head slightly, exchanging a glance with Matvey. Something incomprehensible to Aleksander seemed to pass between them; Svetlana gave a small shake of her head, and Matvey the slightest nod.</p>
<p>“You will have to kill us,” Svetlana said, quite steadily, and Aleksander shrugged.</p>
<p>“If that’s what you wish,” he said. “But I don’t count this as cooperating.”</p>
<p>At his unspoken command, some of the <em>nichevo’ya</em> still crawling over the walls dived downwards, quickly finding those still hiding under the pews. There was a lot more protest from these people, though Aleksander thought it was probably involuntary – even the most stoical of people couldn’t help but express their horror when it came to those creatures, and Aleksander enjoyed seeing the way Svetlana’s face paled when the creatures came closer, dragging their prey with them and dropping them to the floor between Aleksander and Svetlana.</p>
<p>“What do you think?” Aleksander asked them. There were five of them, ranging in age from perhaps early twenties to late forties. “Do you agree with your Priestess?”</p>
<p>They nodded, to different levels of enthusiasm, but said nothing.</p>
<p>“Harshaw,” Aleksander said, almost bored.</p>
<p>Harshaw appeared almost immediately, somehow already covered in ash despite the lack of anything currently burning. His flint was in his hand, held ready, and Aleksander could see he was already looking around for the best place to strike it. The young man’s appearance hadn’t gone over Svetlana’s head, either: Aleksander could see her looking at the flint, at the red trim on Harshaw’s kefta, and then she looked back to the people kneeling on the ground before Aleksander and she seemed to connect the dots.</p>
<p>“No,” she said, her voice quiet.</p>
<p>“Harshaw here is very accomplished,” Aleksander said conversationally. “I assure you he can make absolutely certain that they all burn one at a time. Did you know it takes quite some time for someone to burn to death? It’s excruciatingly painful for a short time, but then once the nerves are damaged most people stop feeling the pain. Of course, that’s without Heartrenders to keep restoring the nerves. I’ll ask you one more time, Svetlana. Are you going to cooperate?”</p>
<p>Her face remained blank, but Aleksander could see how heavily she was breathing, her eyes flickering over the faces in front of her. Aleksander briefly met Alina’s eyes; she was watching him steadily, slightly pale, but when their eyes met she gave him the smallest of nods.</p>
<p>“Allow me to pray over them first,” Svetlana asked quietly, her voice suddenly thick with tears.</p>
<p>“Priestess,” one of them said hoarsely.</p>
<p>“Enough!” Svetlana snapped, stepping down the stairs. “Was this not warned of? Did you not all give me your word?”</p>
<p>A short pause, and then murmurs of assent.</p>
<p>“We said we would not go without a fight,” Svetlana said quietly, touching the forehead of the young man who had spoken up. “And we will not.”</p>
<p>Aleksander hadn’t expected her to move so quickly. One moment she was with the kneeling young man, and the next she had thrown herself forward, something flashing through the air. Aleksander instinctively raised a hand and whatever the object was crashed into it; too late he realised that it appeared to be a metal fire poker, or at least something of similar weight. At any rate, it cleanly broke his wrist.</p>
<p>He let out a hiss of pain but kept enough presence of mind to step back – the second blow missed him by mere inches, and had been clearly aimed at his head. Svetlana stepped past the others – all of whom were now back on their feet – and raised the metal again, but this time one of the <em>nichevo’ya</em> swooped low and snatched it from her hand so roughly that it jerked her around, almost sending her spinning to the floor. She steadied herself against a pew, her hand dripping blood, her eyes bright as she looked at him.</p>
<p>“No so indestructible, are you, Heretic?” she sneered.</p>
<p>“Shame about my other hand,” Aleksander said flatly, and Svetlana jumped away as the pew she had steadied herself against suddenly split inches from her hand, the crack echoing through the chapel. She stepped backwards and Aleksander matched her pace, advancing on her slowly. “I think I might have reached the end of my patience.”</p>
<p>This time the Cut split the floor just before her feet, and Aleksander smiled as her alarmed eyes met his. She had been watching his good hand; she had no idea that for Aleksander, such precise use of the Cut needed nothing more than a twitch of his fingers, and he could manage that well enough with his apparently useless injured hand. Above her shoulder he could see Alina twisting against Matvey’s grip, speaking to him urgently – he had been dragging her back in increments, Aleksander saw, though where he thought he was going with her Aleksander didn’t know. He looked to Harshaw instead, giving a nod, and in the next moment the woman standing just behind Svetlana had become nothing more than a pillar of screaming flame. Svetlana whirled around, her body going rigid, and then she turned back to Aleksander with such hatred on her face that Aleksander couldn’t even dismiss it with a laugh, like he usually might. He could only match with a hatred of his own.</p>
<p>She threw herself at him again, and it seemed to be some unspoken cue. There was something especially chaotic about a battle being fought by people who knew they would die regardless; who had absolutely nothing to lose – absence of fear made for dangerous opponents. Aleksander didn’t dare underestimate Svetlana as she came at him, quickly stepping back and staying out of her reach; around the chapel the same kind of scene repeated itself in multiple different ways as his soldiers found footing, recovered from the shock of the sudden assault. Aleksander kept his eye on everyone else through the <em>nichevo’ya</em>, who were still content to tease their prey, but he kept most of his attention on Svetlana and the sharp blade she now held in her hand. She didn’t get close enough to harm him with it, but she was energetic enough that Aleksander knew he couldn’t ignore the possibility.</p>
<p>“You’re trying to get me to kill you,” he said, as she swiped at him again. “It won’t work. I will keep you alive for some time for this.”</p>
<p>“Like hell you will,” Svetlana snapped. “What if I turn it on myself?”</p>
<p>“Try it,” Aleksander smiled.</p>
<p>She hesitated like she might, just to spite him, and one of the <em>nichevo’ya</em> landed beside her in a skitter of claws and wrenched her arm away, holding it tightly and clicking its teeth in some gross imitation of laughter. Svetlana shrieked and tried to pull her arm away, but the creature held on with ease. She screamed again, louder, and this time when she pulled her arm away the <em>nichevo’ya</em> let go, sending her crashing against the back of one of the pews. This time when she recovered herself, she turned and ran back down the aisle, not once looking back, and Aleksander snorted and followed at a more leisurely pace.</p>
<p>Harshaw had made short work of three of the five who had been pulled out of hiding, but the other two were unaccounted for. The congregation’s numbers were already vastly reduced, but some restraint was clearly being shown if any of them were alive – necessary, if Aleksander wanted to find out if this group was a one-off or if it was going to be a constant headache. Svetlana had reached Matvey’s side now; Alina said something to her, her face urgent, but Svetlana shook her head and for a brief moment there seemed to be a heated debate between the three of them. Perhaps it would have gone on for long enough that Aleksander reached them, but at that moment he was distracted by a dark figure that appeared from behind one of the pillars and streaked towards the small group so quickly that Aleksander didn’t have time to realise what was going on.</p>
<p>The figure ran right up to Matvey and hit him with some force; Matvey’s size should have meant that he didn’t move much, but he grunted like the figure had weighed ten times more than it did and then he doubled over, clutching his hand to where the figure had run into him. Aleksander saw Matvey’s hand was red with blood; the figure straightened up, a bloody knife now visible in his hand, and immediately tried to grab for Alina’s restraints. Svetlana got between them, swinging out and catching the person with a hard backhand.</p>
<p>“Traitor!” she screamed.</p>
<p>Vasya grinned at her, despite the blood dripping down his lip.</p>
<p>“Is it treachery or corruption?” Aleksander called, amused.</p>
<p>Svetlana spun around and looked at him once again with that burning hatred, raising her arm slightly as though she might be considering throwing the knife at him. Aleksander tensed slightly, waiting for it, but then she shook her head and her mouth twisted into a cruel smile.</p>
<p>“I will <em>never</em> give her back to you,” she spat, and then she spun around and drove the knife into Alina’s throat.</p>
<p>Time slowed. Everything else seemed to fade away, or perhaps it stopped – the chaos around him, the screaming, the skittering of the <em>nichevo’ya</em> – all of it stopped. The knife was there and gone so quickly that Aleksander could have persuaded himself he’d imagined it, but then there was blood and he realised that Svetlana had wrenched the knife across Alina’s throat, that it was only gone because she had torn it back out through the skin, and by the time Aleksander had managed to force his body to take a single step Alina was already on the ground. He heard himself scream, but as for what he said he didn’t know – he didn’t know if he’d even said anything at all. He managed to take a single stumbling step before he realised that the tether was fading – that connection that had been there, felt if not consciously noticed, was fraying.</p>
<p><em>There isn’t enough time</em>, he thought, quite clearly, even as he saw Tolya and Tamar break off and run in a full sprint towards her. <em>There’s not enough time. It’s too late, it’s—</em></p>
<p>Time. Time had stopped, and now it threatened to start again – sound was returning, people’s movements were speeding up, and Aleksander knew that the moment it restarted Alina would be gone. There was something tight in his chest, something tight enough that he couldn’t breathe, but there was something vaguely familiar about the sudden heat under his skin. The <em>nichevo’ya</em> became agitated, pushing themselves away from the walls and flying in erratic circles, faster and faster; sound had faded again and the heat under Aleksander’s skin had turned white-hot, seeming to burn through him. Vaguely he looked down at himself, seeing the shadows flowing from him, pooling out around him, solid and as black as the Fold, and he laughed.</p>
<p>He was still laughing as he raised his hands and brought them together with a sharp crack; still laughing as the shadows exploded outwards, burying themselves into rock and wall and flesh and wood and grass alike; still laughing even after he could no longer hear himself, and only when he hit the ground did he stop.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Strangely, the wound didn’t hurt.</p>
<p>Alina had had enough time to see that Svetlana was about to stab her, and just enough time to register a flash of shock at the fact, and then it had been done. She didn’t remember the knife stabbing into her, nor did she remember how it had felt when Svetlana had wrenched the knife to the side and cut her throat – though later she would remember the sickening feeling of all that hot blood pouring out, more than she had ever seen in her life. She hadn’t felt it when she had hit the ground, but she had been properly aware of the blood because it had been pooling on the ground around her, and soaking into her clothing.</p>
<p>She remembered seeing the stone her face was resting against, and feeling suddenly light, as though she were floating away. She had wanted to look around, to try and better work out what was happening, but her head wouldn’t move so she had to use her eyes instead. There was only a limited amount that she could see, but somehow she saw Aleksander, saw the way he was staring at her, and vaguely she thought that he was about to do something stupid.</p>
<p>Then the world had gone dark.</p>
<p>There was no way of knowing how long it had been dark for, of course, but she got the impression that it hadn’t been long at all. She distinctly remembered being somewhere and yet nowhere at all, and she felt the moment where she was sure her heart stopped, where her lungs refused to draw in any air. She knew she was bleeding out – and quickly, too – and that even for somebody like her, there was nothing her body could do with no <em>blood</em>. She waited almost patiently for her brain to realise she was dead – she had read somewhere that the mind could remain active for a short time after death, before all the oxygen and blood completely left the brain, and she supposed that was what was happening here. She found herself a little nervous, but overall not as concerned by the fact as she thought she should be, but that was something she had heard, too – that at the moment of death, the sense of resignation could be very peaceful. She was sure she was no longer breathing, sure she couldn’t feel her heart beating anymore, and she had just begun to wonder if <em>this </em>was death – just this, forever – when she realised that instead of fading away she seemed to be becoming more aware; instead of feeling light and drifting, she could feel stone underneath her again.</p>
<p>When she opened her eyes again her vision was slightly clearer, and there were a number of faces staring down at her. At first she put her sudden awareness down to Tolya and Tamar, who were both crouched over her, their faces grim with concentration and their hands working quickly over the wound; Vasya was there, too, his lip still dripping blood and the eye that she could make out filled with concern – the other, of course, as black and as unreadable as always. Only after taking stock of the people immediately around her did Alina sense movement to her right, and she realised simultaneously that she had been rolled onto her back and that she could hear again.</p>
<p>“<em>Moi soverenyi</em>, you need to—”</p>
<p>“For the last time, <em>shut up</em>!” Aleksander snapped.</p>
<p>Alina was so relieved to hear his voice that she felt momentarily light-headed; she tried to speak but found she could only manage a bubble of blood.</p>
<p>“Don’t,” Tolya warned her, his hands never stilling.</p>
<p>“Alina,” Aleksander muttered, and he dropped to his knees beside her with worrying heaviness. “Alina, look at me.”</p>
<p>She managed to drag her eyes to meet his, and despite the fact she still couldn’t speak she knew her shock had registered on her face. Aleksander was unnaturally pale, his body trembling with the effort of staying upright; he looked as though he had lost a dangerous amount of weight in a blink, and his eyes were flat, the light in them dulled.</p>
<p><em>What have you done?</em> she wanted to say. <em>What have you </em>done<em>?</em></p>
<p>The panic threatened to overwhelm her and she forced her hand to move, reaching out and grabbing at him. She found his sleeve and tugged at the clothing; he tangled their fingers together and Alina felt another surge of panic when she felt how dull his power was, a hum rather than the rush that usually flooded her. She couldn’t voice any of it so she kept her eyes on him instead, urgently begging him for an explanation, but it seemed as though his energy was taken up trying to keep himself upright. He seemed to be growing weaker the longer Alina looked at him, the trembling becoming swaying, his head beginning to drop.</p>
<p>She managed to swallow.</p>
<p>“Hey,” she croaked, as soon as she could. She squeezed his hand. “Stay awake. What did you do?”</p>
<p>She wished she could use his name; she knew it would be the one thing that was sure to get his attention, but of course she couldn’t. She dug her nails into his hand instead and he finally looked up, his eyes clearing briefly.</p>
<p>“What did you do?”</p>
<p>He shook his head, and Alina had no idea if he meant that he wasn’t going to explain now, or if he simply didn’t know.</p>
<p>The world was coming back into focus around her now, her awareness returning with sudden force. She was sure that it must be the adrenaline, or some kind of effect of her injury, but everything around her looked <em>wrong</em>. The colours were too bright, it seemed <em>too</em> real – she couldn’t explain it, but the more she looked around the more she realised that nothing looked the same as it had before. The peaceful atmosphere that seemed to accompany all religious buildings had gone, as had the strange atmosphere often found in long-abandoned places – the feeling of nostalgia, the strange kind of mourning that came from being in a place that had once been used and tended to and loved, and was now falling into ruin. None of that was there anymore – the building felt suddenly <em>aware</em>, as though eyes were peering at her from every single part of it. It was the same feeling as thinking she was alone and then realising she was being watched; it was the same feeling as walking through a forest and knowing an animal was on her trail; it was the same feeling as walking into a building she thought would be empty and sensing a presence in one of the upstairs rooms. It was <em>aware</em>, <em>alive</em>, and Alina could feel a sudden terror building up inside her. She couldn’t think for a moment what she was afraid of, but it seemed almost primal – and the more she thought about it the more she realised she could sense it coming from the others, too. Tolya and Tamar didn’t look so tense just because they were concentrating, she could see that now. They were <em>terrified</em>. Vasya, too; she could hear his ragged breathing, and now she remembered that she had heard the fear in Mikhail’s voice, as well. The only person who seemed unaffected was Aleksander, but that could well be because he was barely conscious.</p>
<p>Alina forced herself to breathe slowly, to try and force the terror back. She felt as though she were in a nightmare, one of those terrible ones where nothing explicit happened but the entire dream was laced with dread, with a sense that something was horrifically, incomprehensibly wrong.</p>
<p>Beside her, Aleksander finally keeled over. He did so with such finality that for a second Alina was sure that he was dead; everyone else around her froze, apparently thinking the same thing. Aleksander was completely still, his face free of even the slightest flicker of movement. His chest rose so weakly that it was barely visible; only when Alina forced herself to sit up did she notice that he was breathing shallowly, the gaps between each breath seeming to grow longer and longer.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Mikhail muttered. “Fuck, not <em>again</em>— Peter, get his breathing.”</p>
<p>“What happened?” Alina asked, shoving Tamar’s arm away when she tried to pull her back into laying down. “What did he do?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know,” Peter said grimly, crouching down beside Aleksander and raising his hands. “Well, I know, but I don’t <em>know</em>.”</p>
<p>“What does that mean?” Alina asked impatiently. “How can you know but not know?”</p>
<p>“Like the Fold,” Mikhail said, several shades paler. “Like what he did on the Fold.”</p>
<p>Alina looked at him, startled. “With the <em>nichevo’ya</em>?”</p>
<p>“Something like that. Except there were no more <em>nichevo’ya</em> this time.”</p>
<p>Alina looked around the room again, once more struck by how different it looked. The colours were so bright that it almost hurt her eyes to look at them; the air seemed heavy and lazy, like on a humid day, but there was no heat to it. There was so temperature to it at all, she realised – she felt neither warm not cold, at least on the outside. Inside she felt a strange warmth, like the rush she felt when she had used her power for a long time, but at the same time it didn’t seem to be hers. It seemed to match the room around her more than it matched <em>her</em>, but how could that be possible?</p>
<p>She could feel a deep itching at her throat; evidently Tamar and Tolya had given up trying to get her to lay down, and were working on her however they could.</p>
<p>Alina felt her eyes drawn to the various bodies around the room. Several of them were obviously beyond any help, but a few people seemed to be alive, despite some terrible injuries. A small group of survivors were huddled against a wall, guarded by Grisha and some of Aleksander’s <em>otkazat’sya </em>soldiers, but everyone seemed jumpy and completely disinterested in one another. Alina’s eyes travelled across Svetlana – either unconscious or dead, Alina didn’t know, but due to the lack of horrific injury she thought probably just unconscious – and then over to Matvey, who was conscious and in some pain but evidently not in danger of dying yet. Come to think of it, nobody seemed in danger of dying, even if the injuries were terrible. Alina felt her eyes drawn back to some of the worst injured – the first woman who had been set alight by Harshaw, and someone near her who had been so badly mauled by the <em>nichevo’ya</em> that they were unrecognisable.</p>
<p>She stared for a long moment, and then brought her eyes back to Aleksander. He seemed even weaker, despite the combined efforts of Peter and Mikhail; she watched as Peter looked up and shook his head, and Mikhail stubbornly set his jaw.</p>
<p>“Stop,” she said suddenly, addressing all four of the Heartrenders. “Stop it. Leave us both alone.”</p>
<p>“Alina—” Tamar began, but Alina looked at her and she fell silent.</p>
<p>“Heal everyone else,” she said, as firmly as she could. “Don’t waste time asking questions. Just—I have a feeling, trust me. Humour me, if you have to. Everyone who’s injured, heal them.”</p>
<p>It looked for a moment that everyone was about to argue, but Alina held the silence, daring them to say anything. Finally, without a word, they broke away and moved through the room, Mikhail and Peter calling Kseniya over to assist. Alina pulled herself closer to Aleksander, running her hand through his hair, watching his face for any recognition. There was none, of course, and she pressed her hand flat against his cheek. His power was still there, but it was weaker than ever – she had to really press down and concentrate to feel it. She remembered all the stories about how bad he had been after the Fold, when he had created the <em>nichevo’ya</em> – about how he had almost died, how it had taken the combined efforts of three Heartrenders working around the clock for almost a month to ensure that his body didn’t just give up. She remembered what he had told her himself, too – about how sick he had been, about how he had been unable to call his power for two weeks afterwards, no matter how hard he tried. Had she made the wrong decision, stopping Mikhail and Peter from working on him? Logically it seemed she had, but looking at the facts in front of her told her otherwise. Aleksander was still breathing, even if it was weakly so, and as the minutes ticked on he didn’t seem to grow any worse.</p>
<p>Alina wasn’t sure at what point she noticed that he seemed to be doing marginally better. Her own strength had left her entirely; she was lying next to him, her face pressed against him, and at some point she became aware that his breathing was slightly steadier, stronger. She pushed herself up onto her elbow, looking at him, but he seemed just as pale and drawn as before, dark circles visible under his eyes. His face was also still free from flickering, his body unnaturally still, but there was no denying the fact that his chest at least seemed to move more steadily, and while his breaths still shuddered and hitched they were coming more frequently.</p>
<p>“How many?” she called, not taking her eyes from Aleksander’s face.</p>
<p>“Everyone but the burned girl and the big guy,” Peter replied, cracking his knuckles. “Big guy isn’t so bad – missed all the vital organs. You need to work on your aim,” he said to Vasya, who gave – of all things – a sheepish grin. “Burned girl is something else, though. The injuries are extensive. It’s going to take us a long time to get her to a point where she won’t just die. We’re barely keeping her alive as it is, and that’s with three of us.”</p>
<p>Alina chewed at her bottom lip, her hand absently going to the wound at her throat. It was barely significant now, compared to what it had been before, but she could feel it was still something that would have ordinarily needed stitches. Her clothing was still damp and heavy with cooling blood, and the collar rested precariously against the skin just below the wound, threatening to slip into it at any moment. The thought made Alina’s stomach turn.</p>
<p>There was something she was missing, she was sure of it. She looked around again, at the huddled survivors of the congregation, at the shockingly pale faces of the Grisha soldiers. Only the Corporalki seemed to have avoided completely giving in to their unease, thanks to the work that had to be done, but even they still looked nervous. One of the Grisha soldiers – a Squaller – was biting his thumbnail pretty hard, removing it only to murmur something to the ashen-faced Tidemaker standing next to him. Alina watched for a moment, something about them catching her attention, and then she realised what it was. They, as well as everyone else who was relatively uninjured, somehow no longer matched the surroundings.</p>
<p>It seemed a stupid thought at first, but the longer Alina looked, the more she realised that they seemed duller than the world around them. Their colours were muted, they looked less defined – and then she realised that they looked <em>normal</em>, that they were what the world had looked like before Aleksander had done whatever it was he had done. She looked back to him, chewing harder at her lip, and turned then to the burned girl. The people tending to her were just as muted as the others, but the girl was vibrant, the redness of the burns showing beneath her blackened skin an unnatural shade, like something Alina would expect to see Genya making for fun. It was too bright to be entirely natural, too <em>much</em>; the scraps of her clothing were the same, and she could see now that her shoes weren’t black but rather a rich purple.</p>
<p>It was like Alina had suddenly developed the ability to see far more colours than she should, but she was certain now that it had nothing to do with her. It wasn’t something <em>she</em> was experiencing – the world around her had changed, it had changed in such a way that everyone here seemed to be doing their best to ignore it even if the fear was showing on their faces more and more as every second passed.</p>
<p>“Tolya, Tamar,” she said, her voice sounding distant. “Can you get the rest of this?”</p>
<p>They seemed eager to do so, and within moments they were crouched next to her, tilting her head up, looking at the wound. Alina felt the uncomfortable itching again, but it was a welcome distraction from the tension that seemed to be growing in the room around her, and the stiffness she could see in Tolya and Tamar’s movements. She tried to hold her tongue, tried to remember her theory and keep her eye on Aleksander whenever she could, but even when she was watching him she couldn’t help the questions.</p>
<p>“Do you feel it?”</p>
<p>To her surprise, they glanced at one another and nodded. She had been expecting them to deny it. She had spoken quietly, but somehow she knew that everyone with even a chance at being in earshot was listening to them.</p>
<p>“What did he do?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know,” Tolya said quietly. “I looked away.”</p>
<p>“He did something with the shadows,” Tamar added. “I thought for a moment we were going to end up with another Fold.”</p>
<p>“Another Fold? Why did you think that?” Alina asked.</p>
<p>“It was the way the shadows were just… spilling from him,” Tamar asked, and Alina saw her hand tremble slightly with a barely-suppressed shudder. “Just pouring out of him. They were so dark – like what you’d expect from the Fold. Then he clapped his hands and…” She paused, struggling with the words. “I don’t know. The shadows just went <em>into</em> everything. Into the building, all of the things into it. It was like the building soaked it up.”</p>
<p>“Into the people, too,” Tolya said, swallowing hard. “I saw that much.”</p>
<p>“The <em>people</em>?” Alina asked. “Everyone?”</p>
<p>“No,” Tolya said. “Just the people who were hurt. You. The guy who was stabbed, who was holding you. I was near the burned girl – her, too.”</p>
<p>Alina felt her heart quicken; the twins looked at her questioningly.</p>
<p>“The burned girl,” Alina said, glancing at Aleksander again. “Is she—I mean, how likely is it that she’ll be healed?”</p>
<p>“Pretty unlikely,” Tamar admitted. “We can ensure she survives, but the damage is incredible. Even with our working around the clock, she’ll be horrifically scarred and she’ll probably not have much movement.”</p>
<p>“That’s if she even makes it in the first place,” Tolya added. “Her lungs and her airway is all burned. I don’t know what’s keeping her alive. It shouldn’t be possible.”</p>
<p><em>I know,</em> Alina thought, the words clear and sudden. <em>I know. Or I think I do, and Saints forgive me if I’m wrong.</em></p>
<p>Aleksander’s breathing had evened out some more; his eyelids were beginning to flicker, all the small movements that he been so ominously absent before beginning to return. Alina reached up and pressed her fingers against her throat, feeling only slightly raised skin and a strange heat.</p>
<p>“There’s a mark,” Tamar said, “but my brother and I would probably only make it worse if we tried to fix it now. Genya would probably be better suited, if you’d like it gone.”</p>
<p>Alina nodded, barely taking in the thoughts. She was still watching Aleksander, her thoughts circling seemingly endlessly – what the twins had seen, the shadows going into everything, only leaving those who hadn’t been injured – or at least, not injured badly. She could see a few minor injuries, but those people were dull compared to the rest of the room, like how they’d always been. Her eyes went to the young man who had been so badly mauled by the <em>nichevo’ya</em> and found herself met with a sudden wall of denial. He had been so injured he had been barely recognisable before; Alina hadn’t even known if he was male or female. Now he was sitting with his back against a pew, ashen and trembling, his skin criss-crossed with raised red scars, but he was alive and he was mostly whole. How was that possible? The <em>nichevo’ya</em> left marks that were beyond any Grisha power. Even Alina still wore her own scars. How had any of the Heartrenders here managed to heal such wounds?</p>
<p>His colour was muted now, too. He was no longer bright, like the rest of the room.</p>
<p><em>Saints forgive me if I’m wrong</em>, Alina thought again, and then she turned to Tolya and Tamar.</p>
<p>“Can you kill her?” she asked quietly. “The burned girl. Discretely. Stop her heart.”</p>
<p>They looked at her like she was mad.</p>
<p>“Why?” Tamar asked, stunned.</p>
<p>“I—” Alina began, and then shook her head. “I think you should.”</p>
<p>“Alina—”</p>
<p>“I know it sounds heartless, but you said yourself that she shouldn’t be alive, that she’ll never make a full recovery. She <em>shouldn’t</em> be alive. Something is going on here, something—you see how the room is, don’t you? You see how dull everyone else looks? Did I look dull when you first got to me?”</p>
<p>Tolya looked as though he would rather do anything other than answer that question, but Tamar sighed, dropping her gaze. “No.”</p>
<p>“Then do it,” Alina said, swallowing the sudden lump in her throat. “Trust me.”</p>
<p>She didn’t know which one of them started the attempt. There was a moment of silence where none of them moved, and then from the girl’s direction Alina heard Peter curse and Mikhail make a frustrated sound. For a moment it seemed as though the Heartrenders involved were in some kind of battle, each working against the other; Alina knew that Tolya and Tamar were strong, but Mikhail and Peter were no easy match. It was clear by how quickly it was over that the girl had been too far gone to really help, but it didn’t comfort Alina any.</p>
<p>She forced away the heaviness in the pit of her stomach and turned back to Aleksander instead. Her eyes had only just fallen on him when he moved, his breath coming to him in a sudden gasp. He opened his eyes, his gaze passing over Alina without seeing her at first; his eyes almost immediately slipped closed and then he opened them again, slowly this time, the confusion on his face clearing as soon as he saw her.</p>
<p>“Alina,” he said. His voice sounded weak, like it took every piece of strength for him to speak. “Alina.”</p>
<p>“Shh,” Alina said, brushing his hair from his face. “I’m alright.”</p>
<p>Aleksander didn’t seem to want to take her word for it. He reached up, his arm shaking violently, and pushed some of her hair over her shoulder. His eyes narrowed slightly when he saw the red mark, but some of the tension left him when he realised the wound was gone; that she wasn’t in any danger. He brushed his fingers over the mark and Alina felt a strange shock, a kind of erratic impression of what his power usually felt like; she took his hand in hers and held tightly, feeling it deep below the surface but still weak.</p>
<p>“See to Matvey,” she murmured to Tolya and Tamar. “Heal the wound. Quickly. They’re all drawing from him.”</p>
<p>She had expected questions, but to her surprise the words seemed to make sense to the twins and they immediately rose and turned their attention to Matvey. Alina leaned closer to Aleksander, holding his hand as tightly as she dared. His other hand, she noticed, rested limply against the ground, the wrist bruised and swollen.</p>
<p>“What did you do?” she asked, realising her eyes were burning. “What did you do to yourself?”</p>
<p>“I couldn’t let you die,” Aleksander said. His words were slurred, and he barely looked awake. “There was no time.”</p>
<p>“Do you know what you did?” Alina pressed. “Sasha, you’ve done something—something dangerous, I don’t know—I don’t know how to help you.”</p>
<p>“I’ll be fine,” Aleksander mumbled. “Done it before.”</p>
<p>“That doesn’t mean you can keep doing it!” Alina snapped, and then she let out a sudden sob.</p>
<p>“Shh,” he said, reaching up. He pressed his hand against the back of her neck and pulled her down; she lay draped over him, her hands curled into fists in his clothing. “I’ll be alright.”</p>
<p>“You don’t know that! You can’t come here to get me and then just die in the process—”</p>
<p>He managed a laugh, and Alina could hear it rattling in his chest. “I won’t die.”</p>
<p>“What did you <em>do</em>?” Alina asked again, and this time he answered her.</p>
<p>“I don’t know,” he said, a hint of concern in his voice. She looked up at him, only to find his eyes already on hers. Despite the weakness in the rest of him, his gaze was steady, alert. “I don’t care. Whatever it was, I would do it again. I would do it a thousand times.”</p>
<p>“I killed her.” The words came out before Alina could stop them. “The burned girl. I told them to stop her heart. I thought—with her being so bright, and everything being so bright, and you being so weak and what Tolya and Tamar said about your power, I thought if she died she would stop drawing from you and maybe that would help and I don’t know, I don’t know where the thoughts came from but it reminded me of the <em>nichevo’ya</em>, of how they draw their life from you, and Tolya said she shouldn’t be alive because it shouldn’t be possible but she was still alive somehow and she had to be drawing that from somewhere, right? So I told them to kill her, to see if it would give you any strength back, and it did.”</p>
<p>Aleksander smiled, looking so tired that Alina was surprised to realise he had heard every word.</p>
<p>“We do what’s necessary,” he said softly, and all Alina could do was nod and pull him closer.</p>
<p><em>I’d do it again, too</em>, she thought. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the comfort of Aleksander’s shallow but reassuringly steady breaths.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Really, the whole thing with Lord Rinsky’s estate couldn’t have worked out better. Aleksander certainly found that recovering there was a lot easier than trying to recover in a camp, and he had enough experience to be able to compare the two. Returning to the capital was of course inevitable, but he could hardly show himself while he and Alina were still looking so weak. It turned out that dying and remaining tethered to the world only by somebody else’s lifeforce would have a similar effect as committing the <em>merzost</em> itself; the weight had rapidly dropped off Alina over the course of only a few days, and for the last week and a half she had been recovering her strength alongside Aleksander, both of them spending most of their time asleep or conferring in quiet whispers.</p>
<p>As soon as they had the strength to do so, they had shared the details of the month they had been kept apart. Alina had begun the tradition, the words seeming to spill out of her without her knowledge, and Aleksander listened in silence, the anger constantly burning beneath the surface. The only thing that kept him calm was the fact that several of the most guilty parties were currently held captive in another part of the manor, watched day and night and enjoying much the same treatment as they had inflicted on Alina. At first Aleksander hadn’t wanted to revisit those urgent, desperate weeks, but he found himself responding to Alina’s confessions with confessions of his own, almost steadying himself against what he thought would surely be some measure of disapproval at various choices he’d made. When he got to them, however, Alina had just squeezed his hand and whispered what he had said back in the chapel: <em>we do what’s necessary.</em></p>
<p>When they had grown strong enough that they could think about things other than the memories that tormented them immediately below the surface of exhaustion and sleep and all the other places where they could slip through, they turned their minds to the problem at hand. Neither of them had any idea what had happened back in the chapel, but they had at least managed to straighten out a theory. The one thing that they knew for certain was that it had been <em>merzost</em> – Aleksander’s exhaustion and illness proved that much, as did the deep, hollow feeling that he knew so well, and the fact that he still couldn’t summon. Alina was more concerned about that than he was, but Aleksander was a veteran of such things by now. His power would return to him once his body had any room spare to consider things outside of recovery. Aleksander’s body temperature was also somehow even lower than it had been before, which was another sure sign – it was just as well that Alina could still summon, or Aleksander thought he would have frozen to death long ago.</p>
<p>With that one single fact in mind, and the memories of what they had seen and been told by others, they had worked out that somehow Aleksander had kept Alina alive, as well as all the others who would have ordinarily died or been in danger of dying. Aleksander certainly hadn’t intended for that to happen – he had been aiming to save Alina’s life, and hadn’t been thinking about any of the others – but such things were never an exact science.</p>
<p>“When I created the <em>nichevo’ya</em>,” he explained, “I wasn’t <em>trying</em> to create them. I had no idea in mind. I didn’t even know what I was doing. There was just something <em>else</em>, something that opened up inside me and I knew it was part of my power but at the same time it was something else entirely. I didn’t care – all I cared about was surviving, so I threw myself into it and didn’t think about what might happen.”</p>
<p>“You wanted to survive,” Alina said quietly, “and so you created something that enabled you to. Something that would be able to stand up against the <em>volcra</em>.”</p>
<p>“And so when I saw that you were about to die…” Aleksander mused. “I must have acted to stop that, no matter the consequences. No matter what it would mean. So long as the result was that you lived.”</p>
<p>“But what about the rest of it?” Alina sighed. “What about how the building looked? How it still looks?”</p>
<p>They were laying together in the large bed, the curtains pulled around all four sides to better keep the heat in. Alina had lit up the area around them with a warm summer glow, and while Aleksander’s skin would chill the moment it was gone, he could at least enjoy the warmth on it now. The question hung in the air for a moment, and with it everything they weren’t sure of and everything they still had to worry about. The people who had been injured might not have that strange look about them now, those highly saturated colours, like they were almost <em>too</em> real, but the chapel apparently still did. As soon as Aleksander had been well enough to consider the issue properly he had sent several people out to look over the chapel once again, and they had returned with the news that everything that had been strange about it remained so. It was too bright, the colours too deep; it still had that unnatural atmosphere around it, the one that everybody struggled to explain. Aleksander let them try, but he didn’t need them to.</p>
<p>“I can’t even think about it without shuddering,” Alina said, pushing herself more firmly against him. “It felt like everything was <em>wrong</em>. Not in a malicious way, I don’t think – I thought so at the time, but looking back I don’t think that anymore. But how else do I describe it? It was like…”</p>
<p>“Like everything had eyes and they were all on you,” Aleksander murmured.</p>
<p>He had his eyes closed; now he felt her gaze on him and opened them. She was looking at him, shocked, and he gave a small smile.</p>
<p>“I know how it feels,” he said.</p>
<p>“Did you feel it when you did it? Or after you woke up?”</p>
<p>“No,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “But I’ve seen it before. A short time ago.”</p>
<p>“You’ve seen it before? How? When?”</p>
<p>“It must have been… maybe fifty years ago,” Aleksander said, and suddenly he felt cooler, as he always did when he remembered. “I don’t really like to talk about it.”</p>
<p>“You don’t have to,” Alina said hurriedly. “I only thought—if it might be the same—”</p>
<p>“I think it is,” Aleksander said. “But different circumstances. I think this place was intentional.”</p>
<p>“Why do you think that?”</p>
<p>“It just felt… older. More controlled. Like the eyes that watched me had purpose. And it was so remote, it was like somebody had gone out that far to do it where nobody would find it. Of course sometimes people stumbled across it, though.” He laughed. “People will do anything for food, and this was in the far north. When it got cold enough and there was nothing to hunt, people would venture further out in search of whatever they could. There were stories about the area, and that’s why I was there. Following up on various things.”</p>
<p>“Amplifiers?” Alina asked, raising an eyebrow.</p>
<p>He laughed again. “You know me so well.”</p>
<p>“Was it a building there, too?”</p>
<p>“No. It was an entire area of forest. I didn’t find the exact boundaries. I just… stumbled into it. I had been looking around the area and I decided to check the other camp – it was a large party, so we were in two camps a short distance from one another – and I was using an old deer trail. It looped in a wide horseshoe and I decided to cut through the middle, and then after a minute or so of walking I realised that everything was just… <em>wrong</em>.”</p>
<p>It was still difficult to find the words. He had never spoken them out loud like this before – he had discussed it with a few of the other people who had been there, Ivan mostly, and he had written a detailed account in his journal. He had gone over it once with Baghra, but she had grown more and more withdrawn as the story went on, and when he had finished she had told him to never mention it to her again or she’d take his tongue out. His mother made good on her threats, so Aleksander had let it drop.</p>
<p>“The trees around the border, they’re old,” Aleksander began. “They <em>feel</em> old. You know it’s a forest that’s been around for centuries. But it’s a lived in kind of old, if that makes sense. Like you would find in long-abandoned buildings. A familiar kind of old. When I crossed this… boundary, I suppose, it was a new kind of old. Not new as in a younger kind, but just a <em>different</em> kind. It was old, and it was sentient, and it was <em>intelligent</em>. It was like the entire world was alive. I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder if that’s how a powerful Fabrikator might feel – like everything is alive. It all looked different, too. I remember it was night, but everything had a silvery glow to it. There was no moon. I could see the glow, and I could see the colours. There was grass all over the ground and it was the brightest green I had ever seen in my life. The brown of the trees was deeper than I ever imagined, their leaves just as green as the grass. The forest I’d left had been densely packed, but these trees were all spaced quite far apart. I could see for some distance, and it went on and on. I admit it – I almost panicked.”</p>
<p>“What did you do?” Alina asked. She was pale, looking as though she wished she didn’t have to ask the question – that they didn’t have to acknowledge this. “How did you get out?”</p>
<p>“I just kept walking,” Aleksander said, laughing. “I thought to myself that if I started to panic, I would be in even more trouble. I didn’t even pick up my pace. I just kept walking, and concentrated on keeping my fear in check. There’s something about fear like that – that infinite kind of fear that has no direction. It makes you scared of everything. For the first time in my life I was jumping at shadows.”</p>
<p>He could still clearly remember that walk. It was a memory that had never faded, even after the years had begun to separate him from it. He knew that it never would fade – and that was without considering the fact that he often revisited that strange forest in his dreams.</p>
<p>“I just kept walking,” he said again, “and eventually I stepped over another boundary and the forest was normal again. I’d come out right where I needed to be, at the edge of the clearing where the second camp was. The first thing I noticed was that the fire was obnoxiously high. It looked like they were having a miniature bonfire. I was about to ask what they thought they were doing, if they were trying to alert the attention of every Fjerdan solider who might be in the area, when I realised that Ivan was standing just before the fire and he looked as white as a ghost.</p>
<p>“I asked him what was wrong, and it took him a moment to be able to speak. I remember he asked something like, <em>who is it?</em>, and I had to ask him who he thought it was. I’ll never forget the look of relief on his face when I came into the light. He said that for a while he had heard someone moving through the forest, and he was glad it was just me – I thought that was odd because I didn’t think I’d been walking for any more than a minute or two, and I wasn’t close enough for him to hear for most of that time because it had been grass and no undergrowth or twigs to snap underfoot. I thought it was best I didn’t mention it, though. Ivan was difficult to shake up, but he was shaken then, and he had to keep an eye on that camp all night. I didn’t want him worrying over nothing, because I was still trying to convince <em>myself</em> it was nothing.</p>
<p>“When I went back to the other camp I went through the same way, and it wasn’t there. I was keeping an eye out for it, but the forest stayed normal and nothing strange happened. The rest of the night passed uneventfully and we all met up with everyone from the other camp the next morning, to organise search routes. Everyone seemed slightly on edge, nothing overly strange – but Ivan was exhausted. He was practically falling asleep on his feet. As soon as we’d organised ourselves and started to move away, he pulled me aside and told me he hadn’t slept all night. Not a wink. He’d been using his power to keep himself awake. I asked why, and he said he’d had to stay up and tend the fire. He wouldn’t tell me why that was; I don’t even think he knew. He just kept repeating that something terrible would have happened if he’d let the fire burn out, and if he’d let the camp go unwatched. He said all through the night, people kept coming out of their tents – still asleep – and standing facing the forest where I’d come out from. Every single solider, at one point in the night, climbed out of their tent and just stared into the woods.”</p>
<p>There was a long silence after he finished speaking, and he knew that both of them were suddenly aware of the room beyond the privacy of the bed, as though something could be lurking just beyond their sight. Aleksander knew beyond all doubt that there was nothing, but he couldn’t help the unease that had still settled into him, as it always did when he thought of that night.</p>
<p>“And you think it’s like the chapel,” Alina eventually said. She sounded reluctant, yet somehow resigned. “It sounds like it felt the same.”</p>
<p>“I did a lot of research when I returned to Os Alta,” Aleksander said. “My mother didn’t want to hear anything of it, which made me suspicious it was some form of <em>merzost</em>. She was always touchy about such things – <em>merzost</em> and amplifiers and the like. I probably didn’t help her bad opinion of such matters. I looked through everything I could find, and it didn’t amount to much. All it really told me was that such things might be possible, and that it was said to have been done back in the days where the Saints were roaming around.”</p>
<p>He felt Alina tense slightly, pressing herself against him.</p>
<p>“And the Saints were just powerful Grisha,” she said, her voice a little unsteady.</p>
<p>“So it seems,” Aleksander agreed. “With that in mind, it all but confirmed that it could be a form of <em>merzost</em>. You have to understand that back in those days, <em>merzost</em> wasn’t regarded as it was now. The lines were drawn differently, and Grisha were much more powerful. It wasn’t seen as such an abomination, to push what one could do. Of course, once people started going too far… well. Things went wrong more often than the holy books would like to have you believe. Just look at some of the things my grandfather was up to.”</p>
<p>“Did he really do all those experiments?” Alina asked, looking up at him. “With the animals, and the bones, and all that?”</p>
<p>“Oh, yes,” Aleksander said grimly. “That and much worse. It used to give me nightmares as a child. Baghra would tell me horror stories, say I’d end up just like him the way I was going.” He laughed. “She might not be far wrong.”</p>
<p>“How long has it been around?” Alina asked. “The place in the woods, I mean. How far back do the accounts of strange things in that area go?”</p>
<p>Aleksander thought for a moment. “It must be… well, the oldest one I remember reading – the first account of it I read – it was about seven hundred years old. That’s not to say it was the first, thought.”</p>
<p>“So these places last a long time.”</p>
<p>“I imagine they’re permanent,” Aleksander said. “This kind of thing usually is. That kind of… influence on the natural world. It doesn’t fade quickly, if it ever does at all.”</p>
<p>“Which means the chapel might be like that forever now.”</p>
<p>“I suppose it might be.”</p>
<p>Aleksander kept his voice light, skipping over the comment as though it were nothing but harmless speculation. He was happy to move the discussion on to other things, happy, even, to return to the story of that strange experience in the forest, because it meant that he didn’t have to tell Alina what he feared – that the situation with the chapel <em>was</em> permanent, and that he hadn’t meant to do it and therefore it had been chaotic, unplanned; that he wasn’t recovering as quickly as he ought to be, and that he could still feel something pulling at his lifeforce, draining him in the same way as the <em>nichevo’ya</em> did when he called them. The difference being, of course, that this was constant, always sapping his energy, drawing from him even as he rested, ensuring that he never felt as though he were getting any better. He was breaking mostly even now, but how long would he be able to last like this before something tipped the scales? A bad injury, or having to call the <em>nichevo’ya</em>… would it be enough for the balance to shift, for whatever had happened at the chapel to draw on him until there was nothing left?</p>
<p>He was powerful, yes, but he knew all too well that his own power turned against him could kill him. He had thought that would have to be a conscious choice, like turning the Cut on himself, but now he wasn’t so sure. He hadn’t intended to do it, but he hadn’t intended to create the <em>nichevo’ya</em>, either, and that had almost killed him. How long could he last like this?</p>
<p>“Sasha?”</p>
<p>He looked at Alina, seeing she was watching him with some concern.</p>
<p>“Are you alright?” she asked, when she saw he was listening.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Aleksander said, forcing his tone to remain even, apologetic rather than startled. “Sorry. I suppose I’ve been awake too long, for my body’s current standards.”</p>
<p>She nodded, still looking at little concerned, but he shuffled down against the pillows and pulled her against him and she was happy to curl up to him. He realised she was shaking lightly, and he knew why. Any mention of the Saints seemed to have this effect on her, and he wondered just how many lectures she’d had to listen to; how many ideas they had tried to put into her head. Perhaps it wasn’t even that much – perhaps it was just any reminder at all.</p>
<p>There would be a time to tell her. When she was better, when she was stronger. When she no longer woke up in the night, gasping for breath and looking wildly around the room, pushing him away until his voice got through to her and she remembered where she was. When he had worked out what she was going to do with that emptiness that he sometimes caught behind her eyes – banish it, or learn to live with it. That would be the time to tell her. That would be the time to plan. For now, he would only worry about her. He didn’t have many answers about what he was facing, but he knew one thing for certain: without her by his side – as his balance, as his equal – he wouldn’t stand a chance against it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>That's this section complete now! Can you call it a "section" when it's literally novel-length? Anyway, as you probably know this series is kind of constructed in a non-linear way, with each part working as its own stand-alone but also obviously interacting within the same AU. I'm not sure when there'll next be something of this length posted, but there's certainly be shorter sections here and there as I organise them.</p>
<p>Huge thank you to everyone who's read, commented, and left kudos! Watching your reactions has really been the highlight of this.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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